


I'm with the Band

by Thisisawkwardtimes18



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Band Fic, Child Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, Family, Friendship, High School, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Insecurity, M/M, Male Slash, Mentions of Rape, Multi, Orginal - Freeform, Sexual Abuse, Shyness, surprisingly funny, young adult
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-31
Updated: 2017-06-20
Packaged: 2018-04-02 04:34:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 29
Words: 55,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4046164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thisisawkwardtimes18/pseuds/Thisisawkwardtimes18
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lan is so withdrawn at school he gets mistaken for a new student by a group of guys trying to start a successful band. From there, his life slowly changes and he's forced to come out of the highly protected shell he's made for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This contains mentions and depictions of abuse (both sexual and physical) of a teenager. There is also mention of rape. Please do not read if this is triggering for you in any way!

I was staring down at my tupperware full of fruit trying to decide if I wanted to eat all the pineapples first or if I wanted to eat all the oranges first. Pineapples weren't in season yet so they'd probably be a bit sour whereas oranges are always pretty sweet. Did I want sweet first and then bitter or did I want to delay my gratification and eat the bitter first and follow it up with sweet?  
"Hey, new kid" A loud and eager voice yelled down at me, swooping to sit across from me.  
I looked up, puzzled. New kid? When did we get a new student?  
Sitting across from me was Jacob Cross, one of the more well known students at my school. And by well known I mean popular.  
Let me stop you now...you're probably thinking Jacob is a huge douchebag who makes less popular kids lives a living hell. He isn't. He's just a fool who likes to laugh too much and happens to make 90% of our student body laugh as well. And he's also pretty good looking. So those things combined make him a prime target for easy popularity.  
Beside Jacob on each side were Ethan Jones and Michael Campbell, while Charles Amer stood directly behind him. They are also popular nondouchebags.  
I stared at the four of them. They stared back, grinning like loons.  
"So what's your name new kid?" Jacob asked.  
I looked around trying to see who he was talking to but it seemed like he was talking to me.  
He was staring directly at me and there was no one beside or behind me.  
He was still smiling and looking at me as he waited for his answer.  
Finally it dawned on me that they think I'm a new student.  
Just as an FYI now, I've been going to school in this district since the second grade. I'm in the tenth grade. I've been going to school with the four of them for eight years. For fuck sakes...how do they mistake me for a new student?  
"Um...I'm Ian?" I finally answer.  
I probably should have included that I wasn't new but that is a much longer sentence then just saying my name which is what he basically asked for and I'm not really into talking too much. Which may be why they think I'm a new student...  
Although I did get a haircut last Friday. But it wasn't that much of a drastic change that no one would be able to recognize me. It was more a trim really anyway...  
"Mmmm...Ian. I like it. It's a good strong name" Jacob said, nodding his head as he said it. "Don't you like his name boys?"  
Apparently Jacob's three stooges liked my name because they nodded along.  
I blinked at them and turned back to my Tupperware of fruit. I decided to eat all the pineapples first, then the oranges. I wanted to leave lunch on a good note.  
As I was digging my fork into the Tupperware to pick out some pineapples I heard Jacob clear his throat.  
I looked up at him.  
He was still smiling at me and looked as if he was waiting for me to say something.  
"Oh...um thanks. I was named after my Uncle Brian. Except my mom cut off the BR part."  
Why did I say that? Who the fuck cares about why I have my name? I don't even care why I have my name. Jesus Christ on a stick I'm an idiot.  
"Oh well...that's nice" Jacob said running his fingers through his short brown hair and nodding his head as if he actually thought my dumbass naming story was nice.  
"Mmmhmmm" Maybe if I just start answering in noises they'll go away and I can stop being socially awkward and eat my fruit bowel in peace.  
I looked down into my Tupperware and started eating my pineapples.  
"So um...I'm Jacob, and the beautiful man with the curls is Michael, blondie is Ethan and the exotic Arab man behind me is Charles."  
"Half-Arab" Charles interrupted "You know my mom's white!"  
"Charles I am introducing my new friend Ian to my old friends" Jacob said turning around to Charles and gesturing at me.  
"I already know who you are" I interrupt and turn back to my fruit. All the pineapples are gone so I move on to attacking my oranges.  
"Oh you do? Good! Good, good good!" Jacob said clapping his hands together "Glad to know you've already decided to indoctrine yourself on the whose who of our dear high school."  
"Mmmm" I said nodding as I chewed an orange.  
"Well anyway...enough about us! Lets talk about you!" Jacob said smiling and gesturing towards me.  
I stare at him blankly for a moment before answering.  
"No...thank you?"  
"Well more importantly let's talk about your singing today in music."  
Oh God. I signed up for music because I like music. Simple concept really. However, I do not like being forced to perform in front of the class like a well-trained monkey. The music teacher drew my name out of a hat and made me sing a Frank Sinatra song in front of everyone. At least my voice is semi-decent. A few of the kids really fucking sucked. That is the kind of shit that scars kids for life and makes them contemplate blowing up the school or offing themselves.  
Not me though...I'm not that mentally unbalanced.  
"You were really brilliant! Me and the boys...we liked your voice" Jacob said  
I snapped my head up and stared at him and "the boys". They all looked serious.  
"Thanks..."  
"Yeah. We wanted to know if you wanted to try out for our band"  
"Well actually Jacob wants to know...I'm still unsure of your ability" Michael said, speaking for the first time and leaning over to glare at Jacob.  
"What's to be unsure about? You heard him! He's good!"  
"Well yeah...but YOU'RE THE lead singer...we don't need another lead singer"  
"Can you play any instruments by any chance Ian?" Jacob asked interrupting Michael  
"I play some piano" I answer without thinking. I don't even really want to be in their band. I've heard about their band, everyone at school has. They play at parties sometimes and actually get paying gigs every now and then. Most people think they are pretty good.  
I wouldn't know. I never get invited to stuff like parties...  
"See! We need a keyboard player!" Ethan said standing up and leaning over to pop Michael in the head with the palm of his hand. Michael batted his hand away and rolled his eyes.  
"Fine! Come audition for us today" Michael said flipping his curls out of his eyes like Justin Bieber...with curls.  
"Yeah...we'll find you after school and give you a ride to my house" Jacob said smiling, his blue eyes practically glowing with excitement.  
"Um. Okay"  
What the fuck. I need to learn to start talking more. I should have said "No thanks...I don't wanna be in your damn band. I want to sit at home and read and avoid my crazy ass stepfather and hang out with my sister and not speak to my mother and avoid any kind of social situation where I have to speak to or interact in any way with people."  
Instead my dumbass says okay.  
"Great! See you after school" Jacob said, standing up and leaning across the table to punch me in the arm. The other two get up to leave as well and give me half-waves.  
I go back to my oranges.  
What the fuck have I just agreed to?


	2. Two

Five minutes after the final bell rang to let us out of school, I was standing by my locker trying to decide if I wanted to take my chemistry book home or not.  
I had already done the majority of the homework problems for chemistry in study hall and I only had three left. I could just get to school early tomorrow morning and finish them. Or I could sleep in some and do them tonight. But my chemistry book is so heavy. I really didn't feel like carrying it around anymore.  
Deciding to leave the book in my locker and go to school early tomorrow, I closed my locker and started walking down the hall, towards the bus area.  
Suddenly an arm reached out and stopped me, pulling me in the opposite direction.  
"Ian, buddy where you going? Remember I told you to find me after school and I'd give you a ride to my place? For the audition?" Jacob asked me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder and tugging me along.  
"Oh. Yeah."  
"Did you forget?"  
"Mmmmm"  
Taking that as a yes, Jacob just laughed.  
I didn't really forget. I was just going to go home and get on tumblr and forget about the whole thing and move on with my life.  
I guess Jacob wasn't going to let me though.  
Jacob kept a strong hold around my shoulders, as if worried I was going to flee the scene.  
I wouldn't. I'm not that bold.  
I started to try and shrug him off subtly, but he wasn't really getting it.  
He led me outside and towards his car.  
His car is really nice, for a teenagers. I think his parents bought it new.  
My sister also got a new car for her sixteenth birthday.  
I won't get a car for my sixteenth. New or otherwise.  
I have epilepsy.  
I'm not allowed to drive.  
Michael was laying on the front of the car with his hands in his dark curly hair.  
Ethan and Charles were both sitting on the back.  
Charles was smoking.  
Pretty bold, considering we were still on school property.  
Charles smokes on school property and I can't even say "No thanks" when manhandled to audition for a band.  
What is wrong with me?  
"Hey! Off the car...what are you animals? And stop smoking, Charles we haven't even left school yet! " Jacob called out as we approached his car.  
Michael kind of rolled off the front and onto his feet, while Ethan jumped off the back and Charles took one more puff and put out the butt with his sneakers and slowly got off Jacob's car.  
"Stop trying to look like a badass Charles, Ian can see through that!" Ethan said rolling his eyes and hitting Charles on his shoulder.  
I can? News to me.  
"Ian you remember the boys right?" Jacob asked  
No. I don't. It's not like I don't have chemistry with Michael or English with Charles and Ethan or anything.  
"mmmmhmmm"  
"Well...anyway...let's hit the road" Jacob said, clapping his hand together.  
"Michael, let Ian sit up front since he's the guest" Jacob commanded as Michael reached the open the front door on the passenger side of the car.  
"But...I always sit in the front." Michael said, turning his head and glaring at me with his green eyes.  
"Well, today Ian's sitting in the front"  
"Oh my God...he isn't some delicate flower. He can sit in the back with Charles and Ethan...or we can stuff him in the trunk."  
"Don't be rude! I swear I can't take you anywhere without you showing your ass." Jacob said, his blue eyes growing bigger in emphasis.  
"I can sit in the back. I don't care." I said, interrupting them.  
"See! He doesn't even care." Michael said, pointing at me.  
"He's only said that because he's scared of you, you asshole! You threatened to put him the trunk."  
"Oh yeah, I'm sure! The dude is pretty solid looking! I bet his abs have abs. I'm pretty sure he could easily kick my ass if I even attempted to stuff him in the trunk" Michael said rolling his eyes  
My abs...have abs?  
I mean. I try to keep in shape and be healthy. I like running and stuff. But how could he even tell that? I was wearing a loose plaid shirt and loose jeans. It wasn't like I was wearing clothes that emphasized my body. Now I feel awkward.  
I cross my arms over my body.  
"Can we go now?" Charles asked groaning and climbing into the back seat "Jacob and Michael...you both need to stop acting like an old bitter married couple."  
Jacob rolled his eyes and walked to the driver's seat, while Michael jumped into the passenger seat.  
Ethan and I eyed one another. Neither one of us wanted to cram into the middle seat.  
"I'm not sitting in the middle" Ethan said  
"fine..."  
I crawled in to sit between Ethan and Charles.  
How the hell did I end up from being able to sit in the front seat to ending up sitting crammed between Charles and Ethan?  
I really need to learn to speak up and argue sometime


	3. Three

So I was crammed in Jacob's backseat, between Charles and Ethan, making our way to Jacob's house for my "audition".  
Jacob actually lives in the same neighborhood as me. I live three houses down from him on the same street. Which makes the fact that he thinks I just moved here all the more ridiculous.  
We live in Eastbrooke, which is one of the more affluent neighborhoods in our town. This is really saying something since everyone in this town is basically rich. The average income apparently is between 250,000 to 500,000 a year for families in our area. We were named by Time magazine as one of the richest communities in America.  
This explains why everyone lacks common sense and no one has a good grasp on reality.  
Anyways...back to the car.  
Let me just say now that three almost adult guys in the backseat of a five passenger car is not comfortable.  
I'm 5'10; Charles is probably six feet even and Ethan is probably around 5'7. Our legs alone don't comfortably fit in the car. I feel awkward.  
Also, I don't know where to look. I don't have windows to look out of since I so graciously (aka I am too much of a wimp to argue) gave Ethan the other window seat and I'm in the middle.  
I don't want to look out the windows because then Ethan or Charles may think I'm looking at them and then they'll think I'm some kind of staring-weirdo.  
But if I stare straight ahead I'll probably look like some kind of Frankenstein monster or something. I mean who stares straight ahead except for serial killers or sociopaths?  
I'll just slump down and stare in my lap.  
Another problem is that Charles has decided to put his arm around me and is sitting beside me smoking out the window acting like nothing is wrong.  
And he keeps stroking my shoulder.  
I'm going to die.  
"So, um where do you live, Ian?" Jacob asked me, looking at me from the rearview mirror as he turned out of the school parking lot.  
"Three houses down from you..."  
"Really? I didn't know we had any new neighbors moving in recently..."  
"Mmmm"  
"So how do you like it so far?"  
Charles sighed loudly and said "Jacob, stop with the questions. Not everyone wants to talk and talk and talk. We just got out of a long ass day of school can we just sit and drive and listen to music?"  
"Fine, fine, fine! Amer, you need to have a better attitude though. There is nothing wrong with being friendly and asking questions."  
"Well he obviously doesn't really want to talk to you so it's not being friendly if it's making him uncomfortable"  
"He is not uncomfortable. Are you uncomfortable, Ian?"  
Great. Now Charles and Jacob are looking at me waiting for my answer. Maybe if I pretend it's not happening they'll leave me alone and let me sit in this cramped car in peace.  
"Ian? Are you uncomfortable?" Jacob asked, his voice wavering.  
"No..."  
"See! He is fine, Charles"  
"Oh yeah...because that sounded convincing"  
I glance at Charles (who is still rubbing my shoulder. I honestly don't know what to do about that. I mean I don't want to be rude and shake him off but I also don't like being touched and having some random guy who doesn't even remember that I was his biology lab partner for two days last year, rubbing my shoulder makes me feel super awkward.)  
He's still smoking out the window, his face turned away from me. He's so good looking that if someone told me he was an Arabian prince I'd probably believe them. He looks like an Arabian prince. Minus the whole smoking out the window and dressing like an east coast prep anyways.  
Everyone dresses like east coast preps in this town. We all look like we're planning on spending our lives in the Hamptons or in Martha's Vineyard, wearing stripes with light pants or polo shirts. The sad thing is we don't even live near a beach or anything.  
Well. I don't dress like that. But I'm invisible and can get away with wearing tacky plaid shirts. If you actually matter you better stick with the uniform.  
Jacob finally pulls into our neighborhood. Usually the bus or bike ride here doesn't seem so long.  
It takes about ten minutes to drive here from school or thirty minutes to bike.  
I usually bike to school. This morning it rained though so I had to catch the bus. Biking is better for the environment and it's healthy.  
Jacob pulls into his house. It's probably around the same size as mine. Four bedrooms, three stories (two bedrooms each on the second and third floor) with a pool in the backyard and guest house with the pool.  
The houses are valued in the two or three million dollar range around here. It's obscene.  
"My parents made the basement sound-proof for my so we could practice in there and not piss them off. It's awesome." Jacob tells me as he steps out the car.  
I follow Michael, Charles and Ethan as they step out of the car. I stretch my arms out to loosen up my muscles from the crampness of the car. I can't believe I lived to tell the tale.  
"What time do you gotta be home?" Michael asks turning to me.  
This is the first time I've been directly addressed by anyone in the group who isn't Jacob.  
"I need to leave by seven."  
"Oh that's perfect! It's not even four yet...we'll have plenty of time" Jacob said slapping me on the back and pulling me towards his front door. Everyone around here is so physical. What with the stroking my shoulders and pulling me around. I try to shrug Jacob off but he just grips me harder.  
He pulls me into his house and yells "MOM! COME HERE. I HAVE A NEW FRIEND FOR YOU TO MEET"  
"Jacob, stop yelling in the house. You know it echoes and sounds even louder."  
A pretty red-headed woman comes into the hallway Jacob pulled me into. The rest of the boys are crowded behind me. I feel like I'm some kind of sacrifice right now for this woman and the boys are offering me in exchange for practice space.  
"Mom this is Ian. He's just moved here." Jacob said gesturing to me.  
"Nice to meet you, Mrs. Cross" I say weakly and try to smile.  
"Aren't you Bianca's son?" She asks smiling at me and glancing at Jacob.  
"Yeah..."  
"Jacob. Ian's lived three houses down from us for years. I play tennis with his mother. Why did you think he was a new student?" Mrs. Cross is smiling in the same way my mother smiles when she's really pissed off but she's trying to hide it because there is an audience. Awkward.  
There's a long silence where everyone is trying to avoid making eye contact with everyone else.  
"Well...I guess I'll let you boys get to practice. I'll make sure Rosetta brings down some snacks later." Mrs. Cross gives me a weak smile "It was nice seeing you again Ian."  
"You too, Mrs. Cross" I mumble out.  
Everyone turns to me when Jacob's mom leaves the room.  
"How come you didn't say anything before?" Ethan asked laughing "You probably think we're the biggest dicks ever."  
"Well...I was going to but then I never did." I shrug. There's a reason why the only person I hang out with happens to be my sister.  
"You're a man of few words. I can respect that" Jacob says nodding his head at me. "Well lets head on down to the basement so you can show us what you're made of."  
Jacob heads to the right and the rest scramble to follow him. I slowly follow behind them, feeling sick. Whether from the nerves of being outed as a not-new student or from the stress of having to perform in front of four nutjobs I don't know.  
I just knew this band was going to be the death of me.


	4. Four

Jacob's basement has more personality than my entire house combined.

My parents don't allow us to deviate from the decorations of the house, even in our own rooms. And my mom's taste is beige, brown and beige. She did let me put a blue comforter on my bed but that was pushing it for her. My sister spills her nail polish bottles on the carpet on purpose sometimes, just to bring color into the room. My mom always gets it replaced within a few weeks though. She's kind of anal like that…

Anyway…Jacob's basement has all kind of paint colors on the wall, like blue and green and yellow splotches as if he's taken cans of paint and thrown them on the walls. He's also has graffiti on one wall. My mom would flip out on him and probably have some kind of melt down. Or actually she'd probably take one look at it, say she has a migraine and go upstairs with a bottle of wine and hide in her room until her decorator came over to fix it.

Jacob also has all kind of pictures on the walls. There are pictures of him and the rest of the guys, pictures of famous musicians and bands. All kinds of musicians and bands, not just the typical stuff you'd expect from a high school rock band (The Rolling Stones, The Beatles, Pink Floyd) they have all kind of music genres represented (Tupac, Madonna, even Taylor Swift).

Jacob's basement is cooler than my entire life, unsurprising really, when I think about it.

There's a fridge in the corner and beside the fridge is a worn out old sofa. My mom would have had the maid throw out that sofa faster than she could snap. Obviously Jacob's parents are more relaxed then my own. It isn't hard to be more relaxed than my parents though. They just look for excuses to flip out. Well my step-dad does. My mom just looks for excuses to flee the room with some wine and complain about migraines.

On the other side of the room is the equipment…guitars, bass, drums, a keyboard and sound stuff and a microphone.

Instead of setting up though, the guys are run over to the couch and pile on. Michael, who is sitting on the end closet to the fridge opens it up and pulls out some beer. Bud Light. Obviously.

"Want a beer, Ian?" Michael asks, glancing at me from under his tangle of curly brown hair.

"No thanks"

I can't drink alcohol. Alcohol could interfere with my epilepsy meds. Inference of my meds could lead to a seizure, which is a real pain in the ass.

"Don't drink?" Michael is eyeing me with suspicion as if he can't trust a teenager who would turn down free beer.

He has a point though. If my sister was here she'd drink the whole stash. Most people would.

"Nope"

"…why?" Ethan asks me as he takes a large swig of his own beer.

I shrug.

I could go on about my epilepsy and the complications it brings to my life but it's really not that big of a deal.

"Well…we'll convert you soon enough" Ethan says, smiling "Everyone who ever hangs out with us eventually gives in and lets loose. It's my gift to the world."

I smile and nod.

I don't bother arguing with him. Chances are, after today things will go back to the way they were yesterday (i.e. they will forget I exist and I go home and get on tumblr or do my homework and be invisible).

"Well go on then, get started" Michael claps his hands together and shoos me towards the keyboards.

"Oh my God…Michael you are so rude!" Jacob declares, burying his head in his hands.

"It's not rude; I just don't want to waste his time or ours if he sucks"

"Please…do not tell Ian he sucks, even if he does. Be diplomatic"

"I'm pretty sure Ian can hear you guys" Ethan says "You two act as if you're the only people in the room sometimes"

"We do not!" Jacob says

"Will you all just shut up and let Ian play?" Charles says rolling his eyes and pulling out a cigarette.

"Charles! No smoking in the basement! My mom doesn't like it. Be respectful."

Charles tucks the unlit cigarette behind his ear

"I always respect Joanne" Charles says, winking

"Disgusting, Charles, absolutely disgusting" Michael says rolling his eyes

"Jacob's mom is hot…sorry to say" Ethan says, holding his hand up to high-five Charles who just looks at him and shakes his head.

"That is my future mother-in-law you are talking about!" Michael says

I didn't know Michael was dating Jacob's sister.

She's kind of young for him…fourteen. And kind of…awkward looking, but I'm sure she'll grow into her looks. Hopefully. It would suck for her otherwise. Her brother is like ten times prettier than her.

"I'm sorry Ian. Please go ahead and play. I promise you we will all SHUT THE FUCK UP and behave." Jacob says, his hands clasped together, looking directly at me.

"What do you want me to play?" I ask, cracking my fingers and rubbing the keyboard lightly.

"Whatever inspires you" Jacob says gesturing elegantly towards me.

I look at him blankly. Whatever inspires me? Can't he just give me a song?

Michael eyes me up and down for a minute and then turns to Jacob and rolls his eyes and turns back to me.

"We do a lot of covers but play our own songs as well. Do Madonna's Like a Virgin"

I raise my eyebrows at him but do as he says.

I can do any song really, as long as I've either seen the sheet music for it or have heard it a few times before. Lucky for me my mom used to listen to Madonna before she met my step-dad.

Just as I'm about to play the bridge for a second time Michael interrupts me.

"Good. Now play Nirvana's Smells like Teen Spirit"

This continues on for a while, with me playing a song about midway and then being interrupted by Michael and given another song.

After the fifth song, Michael tells me to stop.

"Go outside for a minute we have things to discuss." Michael says, gesturing towards the basement door.

"I swear to God, Michael, you are so rude! You just don't kick him out!" Jacob says throwing his hands up.

I roll my eyes and walk up the basement stairs to avoid being dragged into another argument over whether or not Michael is rude to me or whether or not I'm uncomfortable.

As I exit the basement, I run into Jacob's mother again.

"Oh hello Ian, are you leaving so soon? Usually Jacob's friends stay until at least dinner time." Mrs. Cross is looking at me and smiling

"Oh. Um. No. I'm not leaving. They asked me to step out to decide whether or not I made the band. They need a keyboard player…"

"Well I'm sure you played wonderfully. You have such a beautiful piano in your house. It's a Steinway, isn't it?"

"I think so." I say nodding my head.

"Your mother never told me you played though. I always figured it was for show." Mrs. Cross smiles at me "Does Harper play too?"

I'm pretty sure my mom never talks about me or Harper. She doesn't even really talk to us, much less about us.

"No. Harper doesn't have the patience to learn."

"Well Harper has always been a bit of a wild card." Mrs. Cross says laughing and brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"You could say that."

Everyone around here thinks Harper (my sister) is some kind of wild child, which she may be. I don't know. She no longer goes to school with me at the public school because two years ago, when we were in eighth grade, she got caught giving a senior a hand job under the bleachers while skipping school. She only got suspended for a week at school, but my step-father freaked out and put her in the private school. It's girls only.

Harper still sleeps around though.

"You're a sweet boy, Ian. If my son or his friends ever bother you, just come talk to me and I'll sort it out." Mrs. Cross leans into touch my head but I jerk it back before she can. She smiles uncertainly at me. "Okay?"

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks Mrs. Cross"

"Call me Joanne, sweetheart."

I smile and nod.

It's weird. Mrs. Cross…Joanne has acted more maternal towards me than my own mother has in ages.

"Well. I must go check on Rosetta's progress for dinner. Good luck with everything, dear"

"Thank you."

She gives me a half-wave and smiles before exiting the room to go towards what I assume is the kitchen.

I go outside and sit on the steps. I wonder what Harper is doing. I check my phone. It's five-thirty. Usually she is getting out of track practice around this time. I wonder what she'll think when she gets home and sees I'm not there. I'm always home before her.


	5. Five

Ten minutes later, I'm still sitting outside of Jacob's house.

I feel like a homeless person or something. Actually homeless is probably not the right word to describe it, considering I'm staring at my iphone watching the time go by.

I feel like a loser. There. That is much more accurate.

I can't decide if I should text Harper that I am not going to be at home when she gets home or not. On one hand, I know she'll be curious and probably start worrying but on the other hand this is the first time ever in the history of the world that she has been the one waiting for me to get home.

I decide to wait and see if she texts me and if she does I'll tell her where I am. If she doesn't then I guess I won't.

I slip my phone back into my pocket and wait some more.

I bet they forgot about me. I mean they forgot I even went to their school until today.

All of a sudden the front door swings open and Ethan almost falls on me.

He widens his blue eyes at me and rub his fingers through his short, light blonde hair and points at me with his other hand.

"There you are! We couldn't find you fuck-all anywhere. I mean Jesus Christ on a stick, we thought you just split. Jacob was gonna force his mom to tell him where you lived and then he was gonna go over there and bang on your door until you came out. Good thing I found you huh?" Ethan says this all very fast and starts laughing as soon as he stops talking.

"Sorry?"

"Its cool man, fucking Jacob and Michael were so busy with their lover's quarrel they didn't even realize you had left the basement until Charles told them to shut the fuck up and let us decide. Like literally man, they were going over whether or not Michael could be an asshole to you for like 10 minutes. Thank God Charles was there otherwise I'd still be sitting there. Oh shit though…you missed it! Rosetta brought down food for all of us while we were talking. I think Charles saved you some though? I don't know man…don't ever ask me to save you food. I can't stop myself from eating whatever is in front of me, you know?"

"Yeah…"

"Come on; let's go find Jacob and the others…their probably still looking for you. I can't believe we didn't just try outside in the beginning…but you know what they say…you always find what you're looking for the last place you'd look." Ethan starts laughing again.

"Mmmmmhmmm"

I stand up and follow Ethan into the house. Ethan slams the door shut, pats me on the back and yells "GUYS I FOUND HIM. HE WAS OUTSIDE THIS WHOLE TIME!"

I jump at how loud Ethan is and widen my eyes at him.

Is he always this loud? Does he always talk this much? How can he be so loud? He doesn't look that loud…

Charles comes into the room first, followed by Jacob and Michael.

"You were outside? Why were you outside? You don't smoke; there is no reason for you to be outside." Charles asks in an almost accusing tone.

"Fresh autumn air?"

Ethan snorts at my reply.

"Ironic that I found him outside huh, Charles? Since you're the one always going outside for a smoke break? The one time that someone else is outside you're inside." Ethan starts laughing again until he notices Charles giving him a dirty look.

"Well clearly someone doesn't appreciate irony." Ethan huffs.

These people talk a lot. When I'm with Harper we don't really talk that much, unless she's talking and even then we like to just sit in this comfortable silence and just enjoy each other. I didn't know people actually talked as much as Jacob and his friends. I thought that was only something people did on TV.

Maybe me and Harper are just weirdos though. It's possible. We didn't grow up like normal people. Freud would say that we are bound to be fucked up due to past childhood experiences. Maybe we just have a harder time relating to people due to our childhoods. But Freud is also a crackpot who thought women had penis envy and men wanted to sleep with their mothers so I don't know how much stock I should place on his theories anyway.

"Shut up you two. We have business to take care of." Michael says looking between Charles and Ethan and turning to go towards the basement.

Oh. I guess I'm the business. Michael should go on a reality TV show. He would be a good villain. In fact I feel like Donald Trump is standing before me right now, waiting to tell me my ass is fired and to get the hell out the boardroom.

"Do you have to sound so ominous?" Jacob asks sighing and following Michael.

Ethan slaps Charles on the head and turns to follow the other two.

Charles turns to me and smiles "Don't worry, you're in the band. Michael just likes to be dramatic. He thinks he'd Donald Trump sometimes, I swear."

That's weird. I just thought that Michael was a lot like Donald Trump and now Charles says the same thing. Unless…have I been talking out loud this whole time? Am I so socially stunted I don't know when I am thinking and when I am talking? Is this a neurological thing? Can I get surgery to fix it?

"Have I been…thinking out loud?"

Charles raises his eyebrows at me and smiles "No. You really haven't said much. I'm pretty sure we'd have notice you thinking out loud."

I nod my head and force myself to smile back.

Charles turns toward the basement

"Come on…let's go see Donald about the boardroom"

I follow Charles down into the basement.

"I saved you some sandwiches from Rosetta. Ethan almost ate them all. I swear he has a control problem."

"I do not! I just like food. A lot." Ethan says from the couch.

"I don't know how you're not fat Ethan. You better make sure you stay skinny too, I don't want any fatasses in my band." Michael says

"Please! This physique shall always be sexy" Ethan says, flexing

"Gross, Ethan, just gross" Michael crinkles his nose and makes a face.

Charles hands me a plate of sandwiches and a bottle of coke "saved from Ethan's stomach for your stomach"

I look down at the sandwiches and the coke and feel like an asshole.

The sandwiches are ham and cheese. I'm a vegetarian. And I don't drink soda at all.

Charles went through the trouble of saving me food and I don't even eat it?

"What's wrong?" Ethan asks, I guess noticing my hesitation.

"I uh…I don't eat meat…or drink soda"

I can feel my face getting hot and I feel like all the air has been sucked out of the room. I try to avoid eye contact with Charles, who probably thinks I'm a picky dick.

"Oh that's okay man, I'll just eat it for you" Ethan says bounding towards me and taking the plate and drink from my hands.

"How come you don't eat meat?" Michael asks staring at me.

"No reason…"

There is actually a really, really good reason why I no longer eat meat. But it's not something I'd ever talk about with Jacob or his friends or anything. I don't even talk about it with Harper and she was there.

Long story short, when I was nine my step-father decided to go make the family live in the woods for a week and act like Amish people. You know…make our own food and that kind of deal. I don't know why. We never asked. I had learned a long time ago to not ask questions of my step-father and life runs easier for everyone. So while on this vacation from hell, my step-father makes my sister and my mother stay in the kitchen and house doing "women's work" while me and him did the "man's work". Which apparently entailed slaughtering a pig and preparing it for dinner. I haven't eaten meat since. Every meal though, when I pass over the meat my step-father always says the same thing "Still not eating meat I see? Stop being a pussy and get over it".

Yeah. My step-father is a dick.

"So you don't eat meat, you don't drink soda OR alcohol. Anything else you don't do?" Michael asks folding his arms across his chest.

"Michael, don't be a dick. He probably just cares about his health." Charles says rolling his eyes.

"Or he's in some kind of weird religious cult thing"

Ethan starts laughing at Michael's accusation.

"Michael…look at where we live. Do you really think anyone in this town is in a cult?"

Honestly, the whole town is probably in a cult. The cult of the country club.

"So are you in some kind of weird religion thing?" Michael asks me looking me in the eye.

"I'm an atheist"

"Well that busts your theory all the pieces huh, Michael?" Ethan asks, laughing.

"Shut up!" Michael says punching Ethan in the shoulder.

"Look, I'm sure Charles told you already but you've made the cut. Yay." Michael turns towards me and is suddenly all business again. "But there are a few things I gotta know before I just let you in, you know?"

"Yeah?"

"Okay, first off…I'm sure you've heard the rumors about me and Jacob and I'm just gonna confirm them now. Yes. We are two fagilos in love. You have a problem with that?"

Wait…so Michael isn't dating Jacob's sister…he's dating Jacob…which is why Joanne could be his future mother-in-law.

Well that makes a lot more sense than Michael dating Jacob's sister. He is way too pretty for her.

"Nope."

"So you have no problem if me and Jacob just started, I don't know making out or something in the middle of practice. You're not gonna go all homophobic on us?"

"Nope."

"So the idea of two men together does NOT in any way repulse you or make you uncomfortable?"

"I'm…gay too so no" I say this all very fast and try to get it over with as quickly as possible.

"You're gay? REALLY? YOU?" Ethan asks "But you wear plaid. OH MY GOD…ARE YOU ONE OF THOSE BEAR GUYS?"

Charles sighs and shove Ethan "Ethan…bears are fat hairy old guys. Ian is neither fat nor old and I'm pretty sure he's not hairy but I can't confirm that."

"Well…are you hairy Ian?" Michael asks apparently very amused by the turn of conversation.

"Let's not veer into details that aren't important" Jacob says diplomatically "Welcome to the band, Ian."

Maybe I should have been homophobic. At least if I was, I could be at home on tumblr.

I can't believe I just came out to three strangers.

I didn't even tell Harper I was gay. She found out when my step-dad found out. Which wasn't a pretty picture for anyone. Especially not me.

But that's a story for another day.


	6. Six

For the next hour, after everyone's big gay announcement, Michael indoctrinated me into the band.

Apparently we do a lot of Coldplay covers. Or 80's music.

Michael and Jacob also write their own music and occasionally we play that.

It's…not bad actually. Everyone is pretty decent and Michael is very passionate about the whole thing.

As we're getting ready to leave Jacob asks me "So, which house is yours, again?"

Jacob has been trying to convince everyone that he didn't mistakenly think I was new in town and has known me since I moved here for the past hour. He claims he called me "New kid" as a pet name.

Obviously no one believes him, which Ethan pointed out. Very loudly.

"Three houses down from you going towards the street towards school."

Ethan starts laughing really loud.

"Doesn't Harper live there? I think you're confused Ian. Harper is a Swain so that's the Swain house; you said your name was Ian Brookes."

Does Ethan actually think I don't know where I live? Do I come off as mentally deficient or something?

"Divorce does happen."

"What does that mean?"

"Harper is my step-sister. I live with Harper's dad and my mother. They all have the last name Swain."

"Oh. Well. I feel like a dick"

"Well you did just accuse Ian of not knowing where he lives and that was kind of a dick move." Jacob points out.

"Does Harper still go to that all girls' school?" Ethan asked

I nod

"What did she do again? Blow job in the janitor's closet?" Michael asks.

"No, it was sex in the locker room." Charles says

"It was a handjob behind the bleachers" I say "and if you want me in your band don't talk about my sister. And yes, Ethan before you cut in, I do consider her to be my sister. Our parents have been married since we were eight."

"I wasn't gonna say anything!"

I give him a look.

"Well…I kind of was but now that you've cleared the confusion away I'll just shut up."

"We won't talk about Harper anymore, Ian. I promise. Right, guys?" Jacob says giving them all a look that basically conveys they better agree with him or else.

The rest give half-hearted nods or shrugs.

I've heard it all before anyway. In class and in the locker room after gym, people are always talking about Harper. She hasn't gone to school with us in two years but she makes it to every significant party and always manages to sleep with some asshole she shouldn't. The only person who seems bothered by this behavior is me.

Harper isn't a slut, she's just confused.

"Anyways, Ian what I was trying to say before we got side-tracked is that I'll pick you up around 7:30 tomorrow for school." Jacob looks towards me

"Oh. No, thanks"

"What?"

"I like to bike to school."

"Seriously? Jacob is offering you a ride to school and you'd rather bike?" Michael gives me a look that basically tells me he's written me off for good as a freak.

"Mmmmhmm." I nod my head.

"Well, okay then." Michael looks at Jacob who shrugs.

"Are you sure?" Jacob asks me

"You can pick me up if it rains I guess."

I hope it doesn't rain. I really don't want to become part of Jacob's posse. I get the feeling that I wouldn't be able to get away with shrugs or mmmhmms if I hung out with them all the time. They seem to be the type of people who like talking and getting to know one another. I can't handle that kind of pressure right now.

We all walk up the basement steps and after several awkward moments of saying farewell to one another (aka everyone but me is slapping each other on the back and acting as if they'll never see one another again for the rest of their lives) we all depart for our respective homes.

Except Michael. He apparently eats dinner over at Jacob's every night. How romantic.

It takes less than a minute for me to get to my house. I check my watch and its 6:45.

I slowly open the door and close it quietly. I wonder what my mother would do if I opened our door and yelled into the house like Jacob. She'd probably pour herself a huge glass of wine and complain about a headache.

I wouldn't know for sure though. I'm not dumb enough to go around yelling in this house.

I walk upstairs to the third floor, which is mine and Harper's floor. My bedroom is on the right and Harper's is on the left. We have our own private bathrooms that connect en suite.

I turn to the left, going towards Harper's door.

Most teenagers would have music playing so loud I'd be able to hear it outside of the door. Not Harper. Like I said, no one is stupid enough to be loud around here. We don't want to piss off the grizzly bear that is my step-father.

I knock on Harper's door.

There's a pause and then I heard Harper say "Come in."

I open the door slowly and step into Harper's room.

"Oh my God Ian, way to freak me out, I thought you were my dad." Harper is sitting on her bed painting her toenails a bright pink color. She is giving me a bug-eyed look.

Harper is probably the prettiest person I've ever seen in real life.

Before she became known as the town slut, people would stop her and tell her just how beautiful she was.

They don't do that anymore though, I guess they either hate her because she sleeps around and want to punish her or maybe they think she already knows since she sleeps around.

She has wide-set green eyes framed by thick eyelashes and wavy chestnut brown hair.

The problem is though; Harper also looks just like her mother. Which is maybe why Harper is so hell-bent on ruining herself.

"Sorry."

"Where the fuck have you been, anyway?"

I shake my eye and widen my eyes at her.

"Uh-oh. What's wrong?"

Harper puts away her nail polish and turn to stare at me in concern.

"You know Jacob Cross?"

Harper rolls her eyes and nods "Obvi. Why? Did he do something to you? Am I gonna have to beat his ass?"

"No…"

"Well what is wrong, you look like you're going to cry or vomit or maybe both. Come sit over here on my lap and tell me what's wrong." Harper motions for me to sit on her lap.

"Harper, I am not sitting on your lap. You're tiny. I'd kill you."

"Oh my God, Ian. SIT IN MY LAP" Harper orders.

I sigh and walk over and lightly place myself in her lap. She hugs me from behind and pulls me tight against her.

"Now tell me what's wrong so I can fix it."

"Nothing is wrong per say. It's just, well…I'm now in Jacob's Cross's band."

There is a long moment of silence and I glance back at Harper. She has her head cocked to the side as if she's trying to figure something out.

She starts laughing after a minute.

"How exactly did this happen?"

I sigh and tell her the whole story about how they thought I was a new student and etc., etc., etc.

Harper snorts after I tell her everything and shakes her head.

"Jacob is such a damn moron sometimes I swear."

"Did you know he was gay?"

"Not officially but everyone knows there is something more than friendly going on between him and Michael."

"I told them I was gay."

Harper raises her eyebrows at me.

"Intense. You didn't even tell me you were gay. I had to find out from daddy dearest."

"You know under normal circumstances I would have told you…"

"I know. Let's not talk about that. It depresses me. Why are you so upset to be in Jacob's band? They're pretty decent, as far as high school bands go."

I shrug.

"Do not shrug at me. Tell me!"

I sigh and say "They already want me to be a part of their little gang. I can tell. Jacob wanted to pick me up for school tomorrow. What if they want me to sit at lunch with them? What if they want me to talk all the time like they do? I don't want all that attention on me."

Harper shifts a little underneath me and starts to rub my back.

"It may be a good thing for you to make some friends. I worry about you all the time at school. I want you to be happy. It's not the end of the world to have to talk to people, Ian."

"You don't have friends."

"I have people I hang out with though. And Jacob is a nice guy, they all are. Even Michael who acts like he has a stick up his ass all the time is pretty decent."

"I just wanna be by myself and get on tumblr. Is that so much to ask?"

"Eventually they will figure out you're not much of a talker and they'll be okay with that and you may even start enjoying their company."

"They all are too physical too. Jacob was constantly all over me and Charles was touching me in the car and I don't want to be touched."

"Charles was touching you?" Harper raises her eyebrows again and stops rubbing my back. "Touching you how?"

"OH! Not like that! Geeze Harper!"

"Well, I was just making sure; Charles has been around the block a few times if you know what I mean."

I roll my eyes at her

"I am pretty sure Charles does not want to go around the block with me."

"Hmmm I wouldn't be too sure."

"Harper! He's straight."

"Uh no. He isn't."

"Yes he is."

"Nope. He has most definitely had sex with both males and females, soooo I am pretty sure he is not straight. Probably bi though…"

"Well even if he wasn't completely straight he wouldn't "go around the block" with me."

"Why do you say such things? Look at you, you're a beautiful boy. You have gorgeous puppy dog eyes and lush lips, I am sure plenty of people would like to sleep with you."

I feel my face flush.

"Can we not talk about this, please?"

"Fine. It's almost 8 anyway. We better get down to dinner. Or else Daddy Dearest will drag us from the room and force feed us."

I nod my head and stand up. I start to mentally prepare myself for dinner.

It's probably not normal that the thought of dinner makes me nauseous, is it?


	7. Seven

I am sitting stiffly in my chair staring across the dining room table at Harper, whose avoiding eye-contact all together and staring at her lap.

A vomit-inducing silence wraps around the entire room.

I glance at the two adults sitting beside me, my mother to my left and my step-father to my right.

My mom can be pretty, when she smiles and isn't sighing loudly in disgust at something. I look nothing like her; she used to tell me I was the spitting image of my father.

Until he left us, now she doesn't mention my father at all.

She has pale blue eyes and light blonde hair. She looks very delicate, as if she could snap her body at any instant.

Consuming nothing but wine and cigarettes all day will do that to a person, I guess.

I glance at my step-father again, trying to gauge his mood for the day.

He's handsome, in a cold kind of way I guess. He's a plastic surgeon. One of the best in our area, probably the best in the state.

He's charismatic when he needs to be, charming the men and women of the country club and his patients.

At home though, he's distant and cold. He never smiles, unless we have guests over. Then he turns on the charm.

He is nothing like Harper. Which is a shame.

It's always impossible to tell what kind of mood he's in though, until it's too late.

Our housekeeper and cook, Maggie brings out the last of our meal.

Today is Tuesday, so we're having baked chicken parmesan with noodles and asparagus. It's one of my step-father's favorite meals. That's always a good sign.

My mother glances at Maggie as she sets the plate down and gives her a grimace of a smile and says "Thank you, Maggie. You can go for the night. I'll have the kids wash up after dinner."

I don't know why my mother even bothers saying that anymore. She always tells Maggie she can leave and she always gets me and Harper to clean up after dinner.

My parents don't like having potential witnesses in the house during dinner time.

There's a long silence as we wait for the slight slam of the front door as Maggie exits the house.

My step-father turns towards me when we finally hear Maggie leave.

"Let me guess, you just want the noodles and asparagus?"

I nod my head. It's better to not speak directly to him.

"Answer me boy."

Unless he tells you to, that is.

"Yes sir, noodles and asparagus only."

My step-father takes my plate and gives me what I ask. He rolls his eyes at me when he returns it to me.

"Still not eating meat I see? Stop being a pussy and get over it".

I decide not to answer and look down at my plate and begin to eat.

This clearly was the wrong thing to do though because my step-father slams his fist on the table towards my side and growls "Answer your elders when they speak to you."

"I'm sorry. No, I'm still not eating meat."

My mother lets out a loud sigh and takes a long sip of her wine.

"All this banging about on tables is giving me a headache. I think I'll just go lie down in my room."

My mother stands up, grabs her glass of wine, along with the bottle and exits the room.

Harper is resolutely keeping her eyes down on her plate.

My step-father bangs on the table again.

"Look at what you did, you little asshole. You made me bang on the table and now your poor mother has a headache so bad she can't sit down and have a nice dinner with us. You're so fucking selfish."

"I'm sorry, sir" I say, looking down into my lap.

Apparently sorry isn't good enough not today.

He must have had a bad day. Maybe a patient wasn't happy with her boob job? Maybe a liposuction patient experienced a bad infection? Regardless, it's either my or Harper's fault and we have to pay for it.

Looks like today, I'm the one paying for it.

My step-father pulls me up by my shirt and shakes me.

"You're sorry? Sorry for what? Being an annoying waste of space in my house? Or sorry for ruining our nice family dinner, time and time again? Or are you sorry for just pissing me the fuck off all the time?"

"Everything" I whisper, avoiding his eyes.

He then pulls his fist back and punches me on the right side of my face.

This is bad. He never hits me on my face. He's always careful to make sure he aims for a place people can't see unless I go out of my way to show then. And trust me; I never go out of my way.

"Now look at what you made me do. You made me hit you on your fucking face."

He punches me in my stomach, making me groan and curl into my side. He repeats the action, two, three, four more times.

"And knowing what fucking faggot-ass pussy you are, you're sure to bruise there. You're such a delicate boy. Harper can take a punch better than you."

He throws me onto the floor and begins taking off his belt as he speaks.

"That's not a bad idea actually. Maybe I should replace you with Harper. She never whines nearly as much you do. You want that? You want me to do this to your precious sister?"

"No, sir. Please, I deserve this. I'm sorry"

He does this every time. He threatens me with Harper's beating or he threatens Harper with my beating. He likes to hear us beg him to beat us.

I can hear Harper's soft cries coming from the abandoned dining room table.

"Well, if you insist." He grins and forces me to roll over on my stomach so that he can beat my back with his belt. "While I'm at it, you better be coming up with a good excuse as to why your face is bruised tomorrow. Otherwise I'm going after Harper, regardless."

The first hit of the belt buckle is always the worse. It doesn't matter how many times it happens, I always feel a sharp jolt of pain, shock and fear.

I begin to think up excuses for the bruises that will appear on my face. I don't know why my step-father is so concerned though. The few times I've gone to school with bruises, no one notices or asks. The incidents are too few and far between to raise any real red flags.

Just the same though, I know that if I don't come up with a good excuse, he really will go after Harper.

He usually doesn't hit her, not as much as me. But when he does turn on her he's always especially sadistic.

Maybe I can say I ran into a door? No, that's the textbook excuse of battered women.

Sports injury? Baseball to the face? No, that's raise more questions than answers.

After school fight? Bullies? No, then the principle or teachers may get involved and try to find "justice".

Suddenly, as my step-father runs out of steam and stop beating me with his belt, inspiration strikes.

"So. Come up with any good excuses, then?"

"Yes, sir. I think so."

"Well, go on then. I don't have all day. Unlike you, I'm important."

"Well, since I'm such a pussy, I can always say that me and Harper were play-fighting and she accidently punched me in the face."

I go with this excuse because it appeals to his love of humiliating me and showing off how weak I am. It may be somewhat more flimsy, especially if you take into account that Harper is barely five foot one and doesn't even break 100 pounds. But I know he'll like it because it'll make me seem weak. And he loves making me look weak.

He starts laughing and I know I'm in the clear. That Harper's in the clear.

"Good one, boy. Everyone will believe that. You're such a little bitch; I can easily believe my little girl could throw you around."

He puts his belt back on and goes back to the dinner table.

"Sit down, Ian and finish your dinner."

I slowly get up and limp over towards the table and sit down.

I glance up at Harper. Her big green eyes are red-rimmed from tears and she's staring at me as if she's trying to figure out how broken I am.

I try to smile at her to let her know I'm okay.

I really am.

It's not that big of a deal.

She looks away when she catches my eye and begins to pick at her food.

We have to wait for my step-father to finish dinner before we can start clearing up the table and escape.

People might wonder why me and Harper just don't go to the police, tell someone about it.

I'm pretty sure me and Harper both know it wouldn't work out the way we wanted.

Dr. Robert Swain, one of the best plastic surgeons in the area could never be a child beater or worse.

Dr. Robert Swain helps victims of domestic violence. He couldn't be a perpetrator of the crime himself.

Every six months, my step-father takes a week to help victims of domestic violence by volunteering to do facial reconstruction surgery on them for free. He always makes a speech involving giving them back their lives by erasing the years of violence from their faces.

What a load of shit.

But the thing is, everyone eats that shit up.

And it doesn't help that the police chief practically worships him.

Dr. Robert Swain helped rebuild his face after a near-fatal shooting that left the left side of his face practically blown off.

To look at Chief McLawhorn, you'd never even be able to tell he got shot.

It's okay though.

Me and Harper take care of each other good enough.

And we only have two more years in this house and then we can go to college and never have to see him again.

We can make it two more years.

At least, I can.

Harper has it worse than me.

I know you probably don't believe me, but trust me. She has it worse.


	8. Eight

After about fifteen minutes of stilted silence my step-father cleared his throat and said "Well, that was a delicious meal. I'm going to head up to my office and work on some things. Don't disturb me. Be sure to clean up everything down here, like your mother asked."

Harper mumbled out a "Yes sir", while I just nodded stiffly and avoided his eyes.

I looked up at Harper as he left the room and into his study.

"You, okay?" Harper whispered, getting up and walking towards me.

"Yeah, it wasn't a bad hit." I try to smile as Harper kneels over me and touches my face.

Harper is so short; she's almost the same height as me when I'm sitting down.

"You're such a liar." Harper says, smiling as she pets my hair.

"Don't worry about me."

"Someone has to, right? I worry about you and you worry about me. That's the way we are."

I smile and slowly stand up, sore from where my step-father had hit me in the stomach and back and reach for my plate. Harper lightly swats my hand away.

"Go upstairs and lay down for a while or something. I can clean up down here."

"Are you sure? I don't mind helping. It's really not that big of deal."

"Ian, stop being so sweet and go lie down. You've been through enough today. Fool."

Harper does this thing where when she's really emphasizing a point, her eyes get wider and wider and start bugging out. Right now she looks almost frog-like, so I know she's means business.

"Fine, fine, fine! Don't say I never offered though." I say as a slowly walk away from the table and towards the stairs.

"Oh believe me; you do too much for me as it is." I can almost see her rolling her eyes at the back of my head. "When I'm done, I'll come and tend to your wounds."

"Okay Dr. Quinn"

"I prefer my First Nations name of "medicine woman", actually"

"I'll keep that in mind."

I make my way up the stairs and into my room.

As I've said before, my room is pretty on par with the rest of the house (aka it's boring as hell).

The only part of the house that isn't beige or brown is my step-father's study. He got to decorate that. My mom lets him get away with murder. Almost literally, actually.

She did relent and let me and Harper get a comforter in our choice of any color.

Mine is blue, Harper's is purple. It does add some touch of feeling like I kind of belong in this room.

Before the blue comforter, I always felt like I was staying in a really expensive but unfriendly hotel.

Which is kind of true…

I should do some homework, but most of its reading and I can either catch up on it later or just wing it and be fine. I did most of my other homework in study hall.

I decide to lay down for awhile and wait for Harper to come up.

I must have drifted off though, because the next thing I'm aware of is someone touching my face.

I pull my head back and try to roll over and away from the hands. I'm kind of freaking out.

"Oh shit! Ian, I'm sorry! It's me." Harper says trying to calm me down.

I stop trying to get away and roll back towards Harper.

"Why would you do that to me?" I ask her, groaning.

"Sorry! I wasn't thinking."

"What time is it?"

"Around 9:45"

"Can I just go back to sleep then?" I ask, burying my head under my comforter again.

"No! Let me look at the damage. It'll be worse in the morning if you don't let me doctor it up a little."

"Fine" I say, sitting up "But let's not pretend you're Florence Nightingale over here."

"I thought I was Dr. Quinn, Medicine Woman."

"Same idea, different story."

"Just take off your shirt, you fool"

I kick back my comforter and slowly peel off my shirt.

Harper sucks in her teeth when she gets a look at my stomach and back.

"Geeze. He really did a number on you. God…what is his damage tonight? He hasn't been this bad in a while…"

"Maybe that's why it was worse? He hasn't hit either of us in weeks. Holding that kind of anger in is dangerous, you know?"

"Dangerous for you, maybe. That man is a fucking cockroach. Nothing can hurt him." Harper scoffs.

Harper starts rubbing some salve on the bruises on my stomach. She thinks it helps heal them faster. I don't think it does but I let her do it anyway. It makes her feel better about the whole thing if she thinks she is somehow helping me.

"Roll over and let me look at your back."

I slowly roll over.

"Damn it, his stupid ass belt broke the skin on a couple of these." Harper says, sounding upset "It'll probably scar, now! Or worse…you're at risk for infection."

"I'll be fine. Just pour some peroxide on it and it'll be fine. It's happened before and they hardly ever leave significant scars."

I'm really not too concerned. Harper doesn't like the idea that I'll have scars from him for the rest of my life. She thinks if there is no physical proof of what happened to us then we can just forget about it when we're older.

I don't think she realizes that she's just as scarred as I am. People just can't see her scars when she takes her shirt off.

"Oh my God, Ian? Pour some peroxide on it? Neosporin is what you need."

"Mmmm"

I'm getting sleepy again and even though my back slightly aches with Harper rubbing that cream into my cuts, Harper is being so delicate it's almost relaxing.

"Are you going to sleep?"

"Mmmmhmmm"

"Ian, you really need to learn to use your words. They are your friends!"

"I hate talking."

"Not to me!"

"Well no, not usually. I'm just sleepy."

"I understand. You've had an emotional day. What with Jacob basically becoming your new BFF and Charles hitting on you and the whole band thing. Stressful, stressful for my Baby Ian."

"Charles didn't hit on me…"

"He was rubbing all up on you in Jacob's car, you said so!"

"He wasn't hitting on me though."

"Ian, stop being naïve. Have you seen yourself?"

"Yes. Everyday. Nothing spectacular going on."

"Don't be stupid. You're a dish! And I'm your sister and I'm saying this. Imagine what other people who aren't related to you think."

"Nothing. They think nothing, Harper. You're crazy." I can feel my face heating up.

"Stop blushing! There is nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm not embarrassed."

I'm lying. This whole conversation is embarrassing. And it's worse because Harper is sitting on me rubbing Neosporin into cuts on my back. Cuts that were made by her father. The whole thing is just awkward.

"Liar. I just want to prepare you."

"Prepare me for what?" I ask, starting to drift off again.

"Stay awake! Prepare you for when Charles starts trying to sleep with you. Obvi."

"That is not going to happen."

"Charles has sex with everyone, even ugly people. He'll try to sleep with you, you're très beau!"

"Have you had sex with Charles?" I ask, sitting up.

I don't know why but the thought of Harper sleeping with Charles disturbs me. Charles seems like a nice guy, better than most of the goons Harper decides to sleep with. I don't know why it'd bother me if they hooked up.

"Of course not. We decided at a party about a year ago to never sleep with one another. We agreed that if we had sex it'd be like having sex with the whole town. Or something. I don't know. It made sense at the time…we were both drunk. Or high. Maybe both. The point is, is that Charles and I will never have sex. But back to you. Charles is going to try and sleep with you."

"He will not"

My stomach clenches at the thought. I've barely been kissed. I'm pretty sure someone with as much experience as Charles has better things (or people) to do than try and get in the pants of some loser who doesn't talk.

"Well, if he does…and you want to…use protection. Obvi"

I sigh and nod my head.

"Can we please stop talking about something that is never going to happen?"

"Sure. You're tired. Go to bed my darling boy" Harper climbs over me and kissed me on the forehead.

"You do realize you aren't a nineteenth century housewife and I'm not your three year old child, right?"

"Of course! But it's fun to pretend"

"Goodnight, Harper"

"I love you, Ian"

"I love you, too."

Harper turns off my light as she exits my room. I roll over, facing the wall and slowly nod off to sleep.


	9. Nine

I am startled out of my sleep when I hear Harper's door open from across the hall.

I'm not a deep sleeper. In my house, it's much safer being able to wake up at any noise than sleep through anything.

I glance at my alarm clock. It's a little past one a.m.

This means that my stepfather has decided to hurt Harper tonight as well.

We don't have locks on our doors for a reason.

I wonder if my mother ever raised any concern when we first moved in and my stepfather's first order of business was to remove the locks from her eight year old son's and stepdaughter's bedrooms.

Probably not. At that time, she was thrilled that she snagged Dr. Robert Swain as a second husband. She hadn't even started drinking at that point.

The thrill wore off by the time I was ten, I think. It was replaced with apathy and the need to spend as much time away from the house as possible. And lots of wine. Never forget the wine when it comes to my mother.

I feel sick to my stomach as I lie in bed trying not to move.

I'm a coward.

As much as I love Harper, I wouldn't take her place right now.

Which probably makes me a terrible person.

I can take fists and insults over the crap that he does in the middle of the night.

He used to do it to me too.

Come in my room in the middle of the night. Touch me. Make me touch him.

I always wanted to curl up and die.

The beatings don't make me feel nearly as bad.

He never did it to me as often as he does it to Harper though.

Last time it happened, it was the worse time. I'm pretty sure though the last time was the actual last time.

It hadn't happened for over a year before that.

It probably wouldn't have happened at all, had my stepfather not caught me making out with Jackson Thomas.

Jackson goes to school with Harper, now. Before, he went to school with me.

His father is one of the anesthesiologists that work with my stepfather.

Every year my mother and stepfather throw a huge Christmas party. They invite all the important people, and my father's coworkers and their families.

Jackson came with his father, obviously.

It wasn't a big deal, honestly. I was fourteen and just figured out I was kind of more into guys than I had ever been into girls and Jackson was there and seemed interested.

I only made out with him to see what it was like.

It was awesome. Until my stepfather caught us.

He freaked out, of course.

What would people say if they found out his stepson was gay?

Our town isn't openly homophobic but there are always whispers about the parents of gay kids. Like somehow it's their fault through bad parenting their kids are gay.

Harper claims he was also jealous. That Jackson had encroached on his territory and that I had let someone other than him touch me.

I don't like thinking about that though. It's too creepy. And gross. And wrong.

When the party was over, my stepfather gave me one of the worse beatings of my life. I actually broke my wrist. The only other beating that is worse than that one happened when I was twelve.

But that's a story for another day.

After he calmed down some he made me go to my room.

That was the only time he had ever, you know…gone all the way.

Mostly before that time, it was just touching me or touching him. Sometimes he made me use my mouth, but he had never…well. I don't like thinking about it too much.

The whole time he kept telling me that it was my fault because I made him angry. That he was planning on leaving me alone. I was getting too big for him to be interested in me anymore; my body was starting to look like a man's. He said if I had just kept my faggot hands to myself he wouldn't have to do what he did.

I kind of believe him.

Like I said, he hadn't gone to my room for over a year before that and he was never as interested in me as he was Harper.

Which brings me back to the present.

I hate sitting in here, knowing that Harper is suffering and that I can't do a damn thing about it.

He'll never leave Harper alone. I know that.

Harper is tiny. Harper can pass for a twelve year old if she really wanted to. Her body hasn't changed nearly as much as mine and it probably won't.

My stepfather likes that, I think.

I just lay there trying not to think about what's happening across the hall from me. It'll be over soon.

Thirty minutes pass and I hear Harper's door open again. I hear the stairs creak as he walks down and goes into his own room, with my mother sleeping (or passed out).

I wonder if she knows. As much as she doesn't care about the beatings, I'd like to think she'd care about…the other stuff going on. She is my mother; I hope she wouldn't turn a blind eye to this.

She probably would ignore this like she does everything else, though. I gave up on her snapping out of her drunken fog and saving me a long time ago.

I hear Harper turn on the shower in her room. She won't be going to sleep tonight.

I won't be going back to sleep.

I wish I could go over there and offer some kind of comfort, but Harper would probably kick me out. She can't stand being around people directly after an incident, even me.

This is one of the few things that we never acknowledge between us. If we do talk about it, it's never direct. It's always referred to as "it".

I know for the next couple of hours, Harper will alternate between doing sit ups and leg exercises in her room and showering. I guess that is how she comforts herself. Or copes. I don't know.

I never ask about it.


	10. Ten

I've been sitting in the dark trying not to make any sounds for the past few hours. I can hear Harper moving around in her room. She's just gotten out of her fifth shower of the night.

I glance at my alarm clock. It's almost five a.m. That's late enough that I can get out of bed and not raise any questions.

I quietly swing my legs off the bed and roll off. I don't bother turning my bedside lamp on and tiptoe across my room to my door.

We aren't allowed to have messy rooms, so I never trip over anything. Convenient.

I reach my door and slowly and quietly open it. I don't know what will set my stepfather off, but I don't want to push my luck with the kind of mood he was in last night and today.

I look across the hall and see that Harper's light on. I tiptoe across and quietly knock.

Harper swings the door open and stares at me for a moment.

Her wet hair is up in a bun and she's wearing lose work out clothing.

Her eyes are kind of blanked out.

She once told me that she likes to disappear for a while and leave her body when bad things are going on around her. She asked me if I ever did that.

I don't. I wish I could. Harper seems much more able to function with the rest of the world because of her ability to escape.

Sometimes though, I'm scared that she'll never come back.

"Harper? It's me…Ian" I whisper to her.

She looks confused for a minute before closing her eyes and shaking her head.

"Yeah, moron, I know who you are. I live with you." She fires back.

Harper doesn't care about being quiet. She never has. She refuses to change herself (she says) just to appease her father.

I run my hand through my hair.

I want to ask her how she's doing but I'm pretty sure she'd just roll her eyes and slam the door in my face.

Harper is kind of sensitive and angry right after it happens.

I don't take it personally. Harper just doesn't like dealing with feelings and the aftermath of things.

"Um. Do you wanna go running with me?" I ask

Harper cocks her head to the side and stares at me.

"Can you run with your injuries?" She asks, finally starting to whisper with me.

"What? Oh yeah. I'm fine. I told you that I was fine."

I mean my entire back and stomach ache and the left side of my face is pretty sore but I honestly have nothing to complain about, all things considering. I could have been born a starving child in Ethiopia. Or been born with no arms and legs. Or been born into slavery. Looking at it like that and my life is pretty golden.

It's all about perspective.

I never want to be a whiner. Ohhh poor me, my stepfather is an asshole who beats me and occasionally does other stuff and my mom just lets it happen and boo hoo hoo. I mean come on. No one wants to be around a negative Nancy.

"Are you? Are you really fine?" Her eyes and nose kind of scrunch up together in a way that says she doesn't really believe me.

"Always." I say smiling at her.

She stares at me again for another minute, her eyes kind of blanking out again. She shakes her head and looks down at the floor before looking up at me and smiling.

"Okay then. Go get dressed and I'll meet you in the hallway in ten."

I nod my head and head towards my room again.

I run into my bathroom and quickly pee and then get dressed in my running shorts and a ratty t-shirt. I put on my favorite pair of running shoes.

I don't bother brushing my teeth because the alcohol in toothpaste tends to dry out my mouth. And when I'm running for an hour, a dry mouth is torture.

I like running. I usually run an hour every morning before school. It helps me to relax and not think about anything.

Sometimes I like to pretend that I'm running away or that I'm in some kind of cool apple commercial where Indie music plays all the time and I live an inspirational/badass life.

Yeah. I know. I'm lame. But it's what I do.

Harper is a good runner too. She's on her school's track and field team and she's the best runner for the girl's division, second best overall.

She always asks me why I don't go out for track.

I couldn't handle all the people watching me. I hate all sports in general. Not because I'm not good at them but because of the pressure of performance. If I could just play without the crowd of "cheering" spectators then I'd love to play sports.

The thought of people watching me run makes me want to melt my legs down.

I quickly walk back into the hallway and see Harper waiting for me already.

She waggles her eyebrows across from me and says "Let's go, Darling-boy."

I roll my eyes as I follow her down the stairs. I notice her limping a little but I have enough sense not to say anything about it.

Harper always says she likes to run through the pain.

I guess that's the same for me.

No matter how bad he hits me the night before, I always get in my morning run. If I can make it through my morning run then he didn't hit me too bad. I can make it through the day pretending I'm not in pain.

We get outside and Harper turns towards me. It's still dark outside, but by the time we're done running the sky will be much lighter and maybe we'll be able to see the sunrise.

"So are we taking Turner's trail?" she asks me

I nod my head.

Turner's trail is a popular bike and running trail in our town. It was named for this kid who got hit by a driver while running early one morning when it was still too dark to see.

Kind of like how me and Harper are running, right now.

His parents bought up some land and made a running and bike trail and named it after him. There are actually a lot of trails and a lot of them run into one another. The trail is almost maze like in its complication. It's one of my favorite places to go running.

"How long we running for? An hour?"

I nod my head again.

"Think you can keep up with the best track star at Saint Mary's?"

"Second best, actually."

"No. First best. We may play sports with St. Peter's and are affiliated with them as they are our brother school, but Saint Mary's is strictly girls and therefore I am the best." She says smiling before taking off and running towards Turner's trail.

Luckily Turner's trail is only about five minutes from our house, so it's a nice warm up run.

I take after her.

"Yeah, but you share you're stats with St. Peter's and therefore you are second best." I call, running up behind her and slowly catching up.

I know that pisses Harper off. She is extremely competitive in all that she does.

Her own ego and sheer determination to be better than everyone is probably the only reason her grades are so good.

She doesn't actually care about school; she cares about beating everyone else at school.

Harper turns her head to glare at me and starts running faster, as if to prove a point.

We reach Turner's Trail. And Harper takes the hardest path on the trail. It's called the suicide path.

Don't worry. It's not as ominous as it sounds. It's just really hard to run because of all the twists and turns in it. Not to mention the raised tree roots can be a bitch and half to avoid.

Harper is definitely trying to punish me for the second best comment. Touché.

I inwardly swallow a groan (my body is pretty sore, but whatever I can make it through) and follow Harper down the twisted path.

We run about halfway through the path and then turn around so that we don't go over our hour allotment. We don't really say much except for the occasional "look out, tree root/branch".

We reach the end of the trail in good time. It's only 6:20. We left about 5:15.

Harper stops and turns to look at me. She's a few feet in front of me so I speed up and propel myself towards her.

"That was awesome." Harper says smiling and pulling up her shirt to wipe her sweaty face.

I notice fingerprints marking her hips but don't say anything about it.

It's strange how things can be so normal and nice and so fucked up at the same time.

I guess that's life though.

I nod my head and smile, looking away from her exposed midriff and use my shirt sleeve to my own sweaty face.

"Hey! We have plenty of time before school starts. Let's take a quick shower and get bagels and coffee together." Harper says, turning towards me and smiling, while beginning to make the trek back home.

"I don't want to shower with you. That seems kind of inappropriate."

"Ha. Ha. Ian you are so funny! You know what I meant."

I smirk at her and shrug.

"But seriously…let's get a delicious bagel and coffee. And let me drive you to school. I don't want to go our separate ways, just yet." Harper turns to me, her big eyes even bigger. She looks like a kicked puppy.

I sigh and swipe my hair out of my eyes. It gets sticky on my forehead after a run. I'm surprised I don't have acne on my forehead.

"Okay. Fine."

"Yay! You never let me drive you to school!" Harper says jumping up and down

"Calm down. You act like I just promised you a mountain of jewels instead of my presence in your car on the way to school."

"Oh Darling-boy, you're as good as a mountain of jewels. I don't even like wearing jewelry. I do, however, love hanging out with you."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm such a riveting conversationalist."

"Seriously, Ian! You may not talk a lot but your silence is never awkward. It makes me feel peaceful. And when you do talk, I know whatever you're going to say is interesting or important. Not many people can say that. Most people just go on and on and no one cares. When you talk, the world listens." Harper says, leaning her forehead on my shoulder and delicately rubbing my back and pulling me closer to her.

"I'm not Gandhi, Harper." I say, rolling my eyes.

"No, but I could totally see you one day being a Gandhi kind of person." She says as we our house comes into view.

I just give her a look that tells her I think she's crazy. She grins back at me.

"Okay, so let's run in, shower as fast as possible and get the hell out of here for BAGELS!" Harper says as we approach the front door.

She opens the door and runs up stairs; I quietly shut the door behind her and follow.

We go our separate ways when we reach the top of the stairs.

I sigh and walk towards my room and into my bathroom.

I slowly peel off my shirt and turn towards the mirror.

This is the moment I've been dreading.

I haven't actually looked at the damage done by my stepfather yet.

I turn on the light, as I lean into the mirror.

Shit.

It's looks bad. Like really bad.

Someone is bound to ask me about it. At least a teacher or two.

Well…maybe not. My teacher's don't really notice me, unless someone is being disruptive and they move them to sit beside me as punishment.

Which is kind of rude, actually.

I mean I know I'm not the most interesting person in the world but saying "So-and-so, you're disrupting the class, go move beside uhhh…go move beside Ian, I know you won't bother us if you sit beside him" is pretty rude. Way to call me out for being boring and basic.

Anyway, my whole left eye is basically a bright blackish/purple color. There's also a long scratch on my face. I have no idea where that came from. Weird…

My stomach and back look like I expected them to. Black and blue and kind of swollen. At least I can hide this kind of damage though.

My eye…not so much.

I roll my eyes at the mirror and go to turn on the shower and take off the rest of my clothes.

I try to go through the motions of my shower as fast as possible. School for me starts at 8:15. It starts at 8:30 for Harper.

Which means we need to leave the bagel shop by 8 if we want to make it on time for the both of us.

Lucky this town is tiny and everything is at most a ten to fifteen minute drive.

Lucky that the bagel shop is only five minutes from school for me.

I get out of the shower and jump into some clothes.

I'm not really into fashion or anything like that. As long as they fit and their clean I don't really care what kind of clothing I'm wearing.

I'm also not too pressed about my hair or anything like that. I usually just let it dry however and go on with my life.

I may be gay but I'm not a stereotype, I guess.

Not that it's not okay for gay guys to like that stuff. I just happen to be a gay guy who doesn't like that kind of stuff.

Today, I'm wearing jeans, sneakers and a faded grey t-shirt. Comfortable but not exactly you know…stylish or eye grabbing.

Kind of like me.

I walk across the hallway and knock on Harper's door. She swings it open and smiles.

"Took you long enough, what were you doing in there…jacking off to thoughts of nubile young men such as yourself?"

My eyes widen and I blush

"Harper! Not appropriate!"

"Oh whatever! What is the point of you being gay if I can't even tease you fondly over it?" Harper says grabbing her book bag and putting it on. I carry a shoulder bag. Yeah. I know. I look like a hipster.

"There is no point. It's the Universe's way of laughing at me even more than it already does!"

Harper just looks at me and rolls her eyes before heading downstairs.

Harper, despite being one of the prettiest girls in our town, doesn't really take that long to get ready. Thankfully.

She has her long, wavy hair braided in a long side braid and is wearing a very small pair of hot pink shorts, with a white polo and Sperrys on her feet. Typical outfit for the girls in this area.

I follow Harper downstairs and watch as she grabs her track bag before opening the front door.

She looks at me and says "after you, beautiful", waving her arms towards the exit.

I smile and bow and exit the house, with Harper quickly following me.

I open the door to Harper's car and get in. Harper climbs into the driver's seat.

"Did you even brush your hair before you left?" Harper asks as she starts up the car and begins to back out of our driveway.

"Nope. I never brush my hair."

She stops the car for a minute and leans over to presumably "fix" my hair.

"Much better."

"Thanks. Isn't there a dress code at your school?" I ask, pointing at her shorts.

"Nope. It's an all girl's school. No one there to be tempted by our sinful showing of flesh."

"Lesbians don't exist?"

"Of course not, Ian! Abortion doesn't exist at my school. Much less lesbians. Fool!"

"hmmmm. What about the St. Peter's boys? Can't they be tempted?"

"As I've said before, darling-boy, St. Mary's is a separate entity from St. Peter's. We are affiliates of one another."

"But they still see you. You guys even share classes with St. Peter's."

"Don't use logic, Ian. It's wasted when it comes to Catholics."

I shrug and look out the window.

Five minutes later and we pull up into our town's local bagel shop. Harper mumbles something about shitty parking and quickly zooms into a space.

As I climb out of the car, I swear I can hear my name being called.

"Ian, Jacob's calling you." Harper says as she locks her car.

"What?"

"Jacob Cross, he's calling you from across the parking lot. Well now he and his gang of misfits are coming over from across the parking lot. Geeze they really have a hard-on for you!" Harper says nodding behind me.

I quickly turn around and see that Jacob and the rest of the band are in fact coming towards me.

I blink my eyes and wave towards them.

They seem to take that as encouragement.

"Well isn't this a nice surprise" Jacob says smiling and nodding towards both me and Harper.

Harper does not look amused and has her arms crossed stiffly over her chest. Very unfriendly body language. Which is pretty much the norm for Harper when she's out in public. Unless she's drunk.

I just blink at him.

"Dude what happened to your eye?" Ethan asks leaning over towards me and snatching at my eye. I lean away from him. Harper sighs loudly.

"Nothing."

"Nothing…you got a huge shiner going on there. Were you gay bashed last night?"

Harper sighs even louder

"Yes, Ethan…from Jacob's house to ours…Ian got gay bashed last night. Are you stupid?"

"I didn't know you knew my name, Harper. What a pleasant surprise!" Ethan says smiling and starting to leer at Harper "I love those shorts. You're tan is always a beautiful golden brown and that pink just highlights that fact."

Harper stares at Ethan as if he's just grown another head.

"I look good in everything, Ethan. Obvi."

"Are you guys getting bagels before school?"

Harper and I both exchange looks and nod reluctantly.

"Good! You should join us! Come on! The more the merrier."

I wonder if Jacob is always this persistent and nice or if it's just for me. I hope not. Michael seems like the jealous and possessive type.

Me and Harper watch as Jacob turns towards the entrance of the shop and the rest of his merry band of gentlemen follow him.

Except Charles. He's still standing beside me. Harper look at me, raises her eyebrows and goes to follow the rest.

"You, going to sit with us?"

I nod my head.

"Good." Charles smiles at me like he's actually happy to be sitting with the boy who never talks and the most hostile girl in town (I love Harper, but she can be pretty mean when she wants to be. And she wants to be most of the time with most of the town.).

He reaches towards my face slowly and touches my left eyebrow.

"You, okay?"

I blink at him for a moment before remembering my eye and I touch it.

"Yeah. I'm fine. It's no big deal."

"Looks like a big deal to me."

I shrug and scratch the back of my neck.

"No one is harassing you, right? If someone is…let me know. I'll take care of it."

I nod my head and try to smile.

I'm pretty sure Charles wouldn't be able to "take care" of my stepfather. My stepfather would probably "take care" of Charles.

He'd get him sent to St. Peter's, just like Jackson.

"Let's go in." Charles says and grabs my arm carefully, leading me towards the entrance.

Well. One thing is for certain. This breakfast is going to go down as the most interesting breakfast in my life.

I just hope Harper doesn't stab Ethan by the end of it.


	11. Eleven

"So what are you getting?" Harper leans forward examining the menu.

I notice Ethan behind her, trying to subtly look at her ass. He looks up and catches my eye. I glare. He blushes, looks away and steps about three feet away from Harper. Good choice.

"I was thinking either just a regular bagel with strawberry cream cheese or the standwich."

The standwich is the vegetarian bagel sandwich that has hummus, lettuce and tomatoes.

"That sounds fucking foul. Hummus and tomatoes? No thank you!" Harper scrunches up her nose and widens her eyes.

"I love hummus…and tomatoes."

"You are totally going to be that weird guy who grows a three foot beard in college and tries to live off the land for a few years before realizing you like showers and become a sell out to corporate greed and America."

I roll my eyes and hear Charles snort behind me, before he pokes his head between me and Harper's bodies.

"Can Ian even grow facial hair?"

"Probs not now, but in a few years I'm sure he'll be a regular grizzly bear."

"You think?" Charles asks, smirking at me and quirking an eyebrow at Harper.

"Oh, totes. I've seen old pictures of his dad on the beach and oh my god that man needed a good chest wax. He totally rocked the David Hasselhoff Baywatch hairy-man chest thing back in the day. And Ian totes looks like his dad but more attractive and nicer."

"David Hasselhoff was an attractive man back in the day, Harper. People loved the hairy chest. I think Ian can bring that look back."

Charles winks at Harper and to my horror, she actually winks back.

It's like they think they are in some kind of adorable romantic comedy and are cast as the lovable, conspiring besties. Disturbing.

"I'm not even hairy. I can't bring the look back if I don't even have it." I say frowning.

They ignore me and instead grin like loons at one another.

I push them out of the way and order.

I decided on the plain bagel with strawberry cream cheese. The standwich seems kind of heavy for an early morning. Also I packed pita and hummus for lunch today and I don't want to repeat hummus twice in a day. That seems excessive.

Apparently Jacob and Michael ordered way before us, while me and Charles talked outside and were already seated.

Harper waited for me to order.

Ethan waited for Harper to order.

God help him if he's trying to date Harper. She will eat him alive.

I look around the crowded bagel shop until I find Jacob and Michael at a big table in the corner.

Oh Jesus Christ on a stick, Jacob and Michael are sitting at the table looking like their straight out of a Harlequin romance novel.

You know…two lovers sitting at a café somewhere gazing fondly into one another's eyes. The whole world is lost to them at that moment, because nothing can be more important than their love for one another.

Sometimes I read my mom's old ones. When there's nothing good to illegally download from the internet.

Anyway. The point is. They are making me gag on their feelings at this moment.

I mean geeze. Have some respect for the forever-alone people in the room (aka me).

I walk over to them and sit as far away as possible.

I do not want to be the third wheel to this lovefest.

That and Michael has consistently been a dickhead. I feel that he is probably even worse in the morning. I know Harper usually is.

Not that Harper is a dickhead per say. It's just that she's been known to be testy and unfriendly to people who aren't me.

Except apparently Charles. Apparently Harper likes winking and giggling with him like he's her best friend since forever.

Jacob glances at me and smiles and wave. I nod back.

Michael glares at me. I resist the urge to flip him off.

I'm not that bold.

I bet Charles would flip him off he wanted to.

Harper definitely would. Harper would probably beat him up with a chair.

She actually did that once, in sixth grade. Some girl got mouthy with her and Harper took a chair and beat her with it.

It basically made Harper a living legend at school even before the whole handjob behind the bleacher's fiasco.

Of course Michael would probably never outwardly glare at Harper in the first place. As much as people shit-talk her behind her back, everyone is very careful to kiss her ass to her face.

I think it's because they know she's volatile because of the whole chair thing.

Or it's because she's so pretty. No matter how much of a drunken mess she gets on the weekend or how many guys she passes out on top of, Harper is still beautiful. And in high school, everyone wants to be friends with the beautiful girl.

Ethan comes up behind me and sits between me and Jacob.

I'd just like to point out that he also avoided the seat beside Michael.

"Hey man" Ethan nods at Jacob and turns to me, leans in and whispers "Ian, look…I'm sorry about earlier."

What is he talking about? I tilt my head and quirk my eyebrow at him.

"You know…when you caught me looking at Harper."

Oh dear God. Is he actually apologizing for looking at my sister's ass? Awkward.

"Oh. It's fine. I guess."

"No, no it's not. I was being disrespectful."

He leans further into me so that he's only a few inches from my face. Even more awkward.

"It's just that, Harper is you know…and I'm…you know and it's just…you know."

I actually don't know what he's talking about but I nod my head anyway. That seems like the reaction he wants.

"So. Like could you not tell her I was staring at her ass today? I'm trying to make a good impression. I know she could like date any guy but I like really like her you know? Like I've been in love with her ever since she like beat Emily Moss up with that chair in sixth grade." Ethan leans back, finally moving away from my face.

"You find it attractive that she broke a girl's nose with a chair?" I ask.

This is pretty out of character of me to actually ask a question but honestly I'm kind of stunned. What kind of guy starts crushing on a girl after she goes postal with a chair?

I mean I love Harper and everything but I totally see why guys wouldn't want to date her.

She's scary, sometimes.

"Fuck yeah! She's a total badass. She's like every comic book babe come to life. How is that not sexy?"

Oh dear God. Harper is going to eat Ethan alive, break his heart and then probably fuck his best friend. Or she might have already fucked his best friend.

This will not end well.

As I'm about to warn Ethan to give up, go home and find a nice docile girl to date, Harper and Charles finally come over.

"Here fools, your food was ready when ours was ready so instead of making you walk all the way back over there we decided to be nice and bring it to you."

Harper shoves my bagel and orange juice towards me and tosses Ethan whatever it is he ordered and plops down next to me.

Charles is forced to sit between her and Michael. Let's all have a moment of silence for him.

"Thanks, Harper. You're so like…thoughtful." Ethan says, smiling at her like she's the most beautiful girl he's ever seen.

Which might actually be true. I mean…Harper is really beautiful.

"I know. I'm a regular saint. I actually cure cancer on the weekends." Harper snarks back.

"I don't doubt it."

Gag me with a spoon. I roll my eyes at Harper and open my bagel bag to begin eating.

I look at Harper's sandwich thing.

"You got lox?" I ask

"Yeah. My psychic told me I'd marry a nice Jewish man when I'm twenty-five." Harper says smiling and nodding her head.

I don't even bother to look at Ethan. I can hear him choking on his food in surprise.

"You have a psychic?" Michael asks

"Not important, Michael! Harper did you know I am Jewish?" Ethan butts in before Harper can answer Michael.

"No, you aren't, Ethan. I've seen you at mass before!" Harper stuffs some of her bagel into her mouth.

"Okay, okay! I'm half Jewish. My dad's Jewish. I had a bar mitzvah and everything! Charles! Tell Harper I had a bar mitzvah."

"No one cares that you're Jewish or half Jewish or Catholic, Ethan. I think we're all more interested in Harper's psychic." Michael says, hitting Ethan.

"He is actually at least partially Jewish. I was at his bar mitzvah myself. It was extremely awkward since I am in fact Muslim and we don't have good relations with the Jews at all times but you know Ethan is my best friend so I had to be there to see him become a man."

Charles is turned towards Harper and is holding her left hand in his right, with his left hand on his chest.

He looks so earnest. I could die.

"Not important! Tell me about the psychic!" Michael is practically whining right now.

Who knew Michael was so interested in psychics?

I'm just going to sit back, eat my bagel and watch this party unfold.

Harper takes her hand out of Charles' hand and rolls her eyes at everyone at the table. Even me. And I did nothing!

"One of my teammates, Grace, is originally from Louisiana and her family practices voodoo and stuff and her grandma is a total psychic and so sometimes I'll go over to her house and have a reading. Usually it's before a track meet to make sure I come in first." Harper takes a sip of her coffee and shrugs her shoulders.

"How can getting readings make sure you come in first? What if she said you'd come in second? Does that mean you'll come in second?" Michael asks, dropping Jacob's hand that he was holding and leaning over Charles to give Harper the stare down.

His stare is really creepy. He's so serious with it.

"Have you seen me run, Michael? I never come in second. If she said I'd come in second, I'd know she was a fraud and I'd never go back to her. Obvi!" Harper rolls her eyes and takes another huge chunk out of her bagel.

"I admire your arrogance." Michael says smiling and leaning back, grabbing Jacob's hand.

"It's not arrogant if it's true."

"Ian, how come you drink orange juice and not coffee?" Ethan asks me, changing the subject.

"Random question, much, Ethan?" Harper asks taking a sip of her own coffee.

"I don't drink caffeine." I mumble

"Really? No caffeine, no meat, no alcohol. You're like a monk. Do you masturbate? I bet you don't. I bet you're one of those guys who likes self-denial."

"Inappropriate." I say shaking my head.

"No, no, no! He's just like really not into chemicals in his body and such!" Harpers says laughing and rolling her eyes and Ethan.

The laughter seems to perk him up a bit. Poor idiot.

Speaking of chemicals…that reminds me to take my epilepsy meds. I reach into my bag and grab my pill bottle. I put them into a vitamin bottle. People don't ask as many questions if they think you're taking vitamins.

"Wow. You even take vitamins." Ethan sounds impressed. Like no one our age takes vitamins.

Well actually, they probably don't. I don't really know the habits of teenagers to be honest.

"Oh my God! Ian once asked our drug dealer if he sold organic weed! Tyler actually tried to find some organic weed for Ian. It was super sweet and cute actually."

Tyler was the local drug dealer. He only really sold weed. Sometimes ecstasy is there was going to be a rave. But there were hardly any raves in our town.

"Seriously?" Charles asks, looking at me and smiling.

"Yeah! Ian saw some special about Amsterdam on the discovery channel and became obsessed with finding organic weed. I tried to tell him that our shit-ass town is nothing like Amsterdam but he was convinced we could get some. I mean we don't even sell organic food in the grocery story. Much less organic weed"

I sigh and roll my eyes.

"So you smoke weed but don't drink?" Michael asks, leaning over again to study me.

"Yes, Michael. He does. Stop being so…creepy." Harper says, answering for me.

"I just don't get why he doesn't drink."

"It's a personal choice that we all make. Don't be that asshole who peer pressures people. It's not a good look."

"I would never. I'm just curious Harper." Michael says smiling like a crocodile.

"Yeah. You've always been just a tad bit too curious, haven't you, Michael?"

I feel there is some kind of double meaning behind her words but frankly I'm too tired to really think too much into it.

Having to interact with people is exhausting.

Michael leans back and takes Jacob's hand in his again.

Harper looks at her watch and sighs "It's almost eight; we have to go if we want to get to school on time."

"I could take Ian to school, if you want. It'll save you some time and gas." Jacob says

This is actually the first thing Jacob's said all morning really.

He must not be a morning person at all.

"Yeah. Think of the environment." Charles says "You can save a baby penguin or something."

"Or something." Harper nods her head at him "But its okay. I can take Ian to school. It's not even out of my way."

"Oh come on! Let Jacob take him to school. We can have some male bonding time." Charles says, smiling at me across the table.

Male bonding time? Unless we're both rolling around topless on my bed somewhere I do not want male bonding time.

"Yeah, Harper. Think of the band! When we're famous we may credit you letting us take Ian to school as the reason why we had such chemistry in the early days." Jacob says, jumping up and throwing his fist in the air.

"Right. Well…I mean. Ian? Do you care?"

"I'm not five."

I mean really. They all are acting like they are fighting over custody of a five year old or something.

And I don't even care. I just want to get to school unscathed. The possibility of that is quickly dwindling down to nil.

Harper looks at me and sighs and turns back to Jacob.

"That's Ian-speak for no, I don't care…I just want to get to school unharmed."

I thought unscathed, actually. Smartass. But close enough I guess.

"Hmm. We may need you to serve as interpreter." Jacob says smiling.

"Good idea, Jacob!" Ethan says, butting in again "Harper, you should definitely come to one of our band practices. Or all of them. We don't care! We like an audience."

"I'll think about it." Harper says, standing up and heading towards the door. She leans down to my ear first and whispers "Have a good day and may you survive these hoodrats."

Such kind words from such a wise woman.


	12. Twelve

In all honesty, the car ride to school wasn't too bad. Michael was a dick but honestly at this point I'd be surprised if he didn't act like a complete asshole at all times. I do not see the appeal. Jacob is a patient man. Or just completely stupid. You'd have to be either really patient or really stupid to willingly deal with Michael on a daily basis.

Or maybe Michael just has a huge penis.

Oh God. Why did I think that?

I shift in my seat and quickly look around the class. Sometimes I worry that I think out loud or that somehow people know what I'm thinking.

I'm sitting in first period avoiding eye contact and waiting for class to start.

I'm in English…which isn't too bad to start off the day with. At least it isn't some kind of math or science class, it's hard to focus on that kind of crap first thing in the morning.

I'd rather have Spanish first thing though, Mr. Cooke the Spanish teacher gives out treats every class and pretends not to notice when I start zoning out.

Mrs. Anderson, my English teacher this year can be kind of a bitch and sometimes calls me out if she thinks I'm not "participating" enough.

She once made me stay after class and asked me a bunch of personal questions and suggested I go see the school counselor for my "issues relating to my peer group".

Whatever that means…

Just as the bell rings, Ethan runs in. I wonder where he went when we parked the car…I didn't stay around to chit-chat with everyone. A lot of kids like to mull around the parking lot and hang out before class starts but that isn't really my kind of thing.

I don't really have anyone to hang out with and even if I did I don't think I'd want to. Talking to people so early in the morning is draining. I already need a nap from breakfast this morning.

"Alright, everyone settle down." Mrs. Anderson calls out, quickly taking the attendance. She glances in my direction and then to my left and quirks up her eyebrows, I look over and see Ethan sitting beside me and grinning.

"New seat, Ethan?" Mrs. Anderson asks putting her hands on her hips and tilting her head.

Mrs. Anderson tends to regard most teenagers with paranoid disdain.

"Well, you said you didn't assign seats in the beginning of the year so technically I can sit wherever I want." Ethan says, shrugging.

"Very well, but I'm watching you two. I only let Ian sit in the back row because he was the only student sitting there. I will not let you two turn this class into chaos."

Two? Does she mean she's watching me too? What did I do?

Clearly Mrs. Anderson should be aware by now that all I do is sit in class and slowly count the minutes until I can go home.

"Okay, moving on. I hope you all did the reading because I want you to get into pairs and write a letter from the point of view of a character in the novel and to write another letter responding to the first. Work diligently."

Mrs. Anderson is always getting us to do group work. I think she just doesn't want to teach us. Maybe she isn't a morning person.

"Looks like we're gonna be paired up, buddy." Ethan says, interrupting my internal monologue on Mrs. Anderson's shitty teaching habits.

Ethan leans over his desk and puts his arm over my shoulders and somehow scoots his desk closer to mine.

I lean away.

"Now, now! Don't be like that, Ian. Give me a cuddle." Ethan starts pulling me closer towards him and running his fingers through my hair.

"Ugh, stop, Ethan." I lean away from him even further.

"Oh, thank God. I was worried for a minute you weren't going to talk at all during class and I was gonna be like super bored."

"Let's just do the assignment."

"Yeah…about that. I didn't read. In fact I don't even know what book we're assigned. Don't worry, I'll just spark note it later you know Anderson takes up the in-class assignments the next day anyway. But for real though I wanna talk about how you can help me woo Harper."

I blink at him and the put my head on my desk.

"Don't worry Ian, it'll get done…assignments can always wait. True love doesn't."

"Actually, I am pretty sure the saying is "true love waits", Ethan."

"Only if you're abstinent."

"Well aren't you technically abstinent, since you're still a virgin?"

"Shut up with the semantics Ian and give me advice."

"Why?"

"Oh my God! Just help me!" I look over and see Ethan pulling on his shaggy blonde hair and glaring at me "You know I can see why Michael doesn't like you."

"Michael's a dick."

"Well, I can't really argue there." Ethan said shrugging

I close my eyes.

"Seriously, Ian? Please? You know I was kidding about the not-liking you thing, right? Michael is a complete douchecanoe! You said it yourself there buddy and honestly the only reason he doesn't like you is because he is jealous."

I open my eyes and raise my eyebrows "What does Michael have to be jealous about concerning me?"

"Well you know…"

I stare at Ethan.

"Oh come on, Ian. You're like you know…"

"No. I don't."

"You're you know…very attractive which makes Michael worried because of Jacob and Jacob's attention to you."

"What?"

"Oh come on man, don't act like you're unaware that you're like you know gorgeous."

"What?"

"You have like that whole James Franco pretty boy with a dash of mysterious and tortured soul thrown in kind of thing going on, you know?

I stare at Ethan.

"No I don't know…"

"Are you serious? You're telling me you have no idea how pretty you are?"

My stomach clenches at the word pretty. My step father used to call me pretty.

"I'm probably average…"

"Shut up man! You're so good looking I'd probably suck your dick and I'm straight so that should tell you something."

"I'll keep that in mind. Are you sure it's Harper you wanna hook up with or do you just want to go ahead and take me to the bathroom?"

"Ha ha ha. First of all Ian…I do not want to "hook up" with Harper. I want to take her on dates and be her boyfriend and all that cheesy romantic comedy crap that brain washes women into thinking they can't be happy unless they have a man. And second of all…I'm impressed that you were bold enough to even mention a dirty gay hook up in the bathroom during school hours. Good on you."

"Thanks." I sit up and roll my eyes at him.

"So. Any words of advice?" Ethan asks, taking out a notepad and looking towards me.

This is honestly the first time I have ever seen Ethan with any sort of writing instrument and paper in his hand. He's kind of a slacker.

"Um. Well. Don't sleep with her."

Ethan raises his eyebrows at me and asks "Is this real advice or are you asking me not to sleep with her because she's basically your sister and you don't want her innocence to be "soiled" because I gotta tell you man…that ship sailed a while ago. .."

"Yeah, I'm aware. Harper has lots of sex. But yes this is real advice."

"Explain, please."

"If you want an actual relationship with her like you're telling me you do, don't sleep with her. Once she has sex with someone she writes them off and wants nothing to do with them."

"Really? What if she like throws herself at me?"

"Then definitely don't do it."

"Won't that piss her off? Or something?"

I sigh and run my hand through my hair. I did not sign up for this.

I just wanted to go to school and get out unscathed and have little to no interaction with the student body.

But no. Apparently I'm just not allowed to be left in peace. This is bullshit.

"Yeah. It'll probably piss her off. At first." I say

"Go on…"

"But then…she'll be left thinking about you and how you were different from all the other guys. You'll leave an impression on her."

"You know. That's not bad advice, Ian." Ethan says nodding his head.

I nod my head and look away.

"So what should I do to get her to like date me? Like should I show up at her school with the band and serenade her ?"

"Um. No. Do not do that. Whatever you do…do not do that."

"Really? Because in chick-flicks the love interest always does something like that…you know a grand gesture of his love and shit?"

"Why do you know so much about chick-flicks?"

"Because, Ian. I love women. I know it's hard for you to understand because you're gay…which I am completely fine with, more ladies for me. In order to understand women I must watch their films."

"Right."

I bet he just likes chick-flicks.

"Anyways, Ian. What big romantic gesture do you suggest since you shot down the band idea? Is this because you're not comfortable performing in public yet? Dude, take one for the team! God, Ian I did not expect you to be so selfish."

"No, Ethan. It's just that Harper would probably not appreciate a big romantic gesture. She thinks that kind of stuff is try-hard and embarrassing. So she'd probably punch you and tell you to stop stalking her if you did something like that."

"Ugh, really? God, why did I fall for the one chick in the world that doesn't fall for the charms of the romantic gesture? WHY?"

"Ethan. Shut up and listen to me."

"Aren't we aggressive today? You know I feel like secretly you are a total power top, am I right or am I right"

"Do you want my advice or not?"

"Okay okay! I'm shutting up."

"You would probably be more successful doing the little things for Harper."

"Say what?"

I sigh and roll my eyes. My head hurts.

"You know. Pay attention when she talks and stuff."

"Huh?"

"Okay for example. I know for a fact that Harper finds it really sweet when a guy remembers her coffee order or something."

"Well, what's her coffee order?" Ethan asks leaning towards me so that our noses are almost touching. I lean back a little.

"Dude. I'm not telling you."

"What? Why not?"

"Because if you're serious about really liking her, you'll figure that out on your own. You'll want to know what kind of coffee Harper likes drinking and who her favorite band is and shit because you like her. Getting to know her is important in dating."

"Dude. That is such a good point. Thank you. I could legit kiss you right now. You are a romantic at heart…I can tell."

"Gross."

"Gross to me kissing you?" Ethan asks wiggling his eyebrows.

"Gross to it all, honestly."

"Whatevs, I see right through you. You love love just as much as the rest of us poor saps do."

"Right."

"Don't worry Cassanova. When the time comes and some lucky man wants to woo you, I'll have your back."

"Thanks. I guess."

"Don't mention it."

"So. Can we do the assignment now?"

"Well, actually…we have like five minutes left…so…" Ethan says looking at his watch and shrugging.

I sigh and roll my eyes.

I feel like I do that a lot when I'm around Ethan. That is probably not a good sign of things to come.

"Yeah. Okay. Well I guess I'll just do the assignment at home."

"Oh no, man. I can write one of the letters."

"Ethan you said yourself you haven't read anything. You don't even know what book we're reading."

"Dude I was joking! We're reading…Huck Finn right?"

"No. We read that last year."

"Did we?" Ethan asks, scratching his head.

"Yes."

I mean I knew Ethan was a slacker but this is on a different level of slack.

"Well I can always Sparknote it."

"Seriously Ethan…it's fine. I can write them. Not a big deal."

I mean I may not get the best grades but I at least know what book I'm supposed to be reading for class. I really don't want to fuck up my grade depending on him to do work.

"Really? Thanks man!" Ethan says, grinning at me "What book are we reading, anyway?"

"The Count of Monte Cristo"

"Oh. I'll just rent the movie or something when it's time for the test. That book is super long."

"Right." I say nodding.

Well today's already been a bust. I usually get my assignments done and don't have homework for this class.

Fucking Ethan…I knew there'd be consequences for joining the band.


	13. Thirteen

After English (in which Charles was notably absent might I add), I had to go to Chemistry. I usually sit alone by myself in the back (this is a running theme in my life…sitting alone in the back of a room. I wonder if this is how serial killers start out. First it's the back of the classroom, then its stabbing and terrorizing innocents in the night. I hope not, blood makes me nauseous).

Again though this routine was interrupted. The chemistry teacher is a flop and almost always gets up to do labs in pairs with no actual teaching. She puts everything online and we have to "learn at our own pace". Usually I work alone but today someone sauntered over to me.

Michael Campbell. Oh Joy.

I could tell he was going to be a dick already, just by his face. He was standing beside me (I was sitting in a lab stool so we were still eye-to-eye) with his arms crossed and his face in a pinched expression.

"So what has Harper said about me?"

I blink. Uh…what?

"MMM?" I make a general noise that could read any sort of way. That's my usual M.O. when dealing with people who I don't like or who don't like me (my stepfather, my mother, literally everyone except for Harper. Actually I typically like people, I just don't think they like me too much).

Michael rolls his eyes at me and makes a loud huffing noise. He kind of sounds like my Uncle Brian's fat pug when he tries to run and struggles for breath.

I raise both my eyebrows and try to look innocent. Actually I am innocent…I have no idea what Michael is talking about.

"We are not doing this today, Brookes" Michael says acidly.

"Doing what exactly?"

Oh crap, he's already won this race because he's gotten me to go off script.

"Oh please, you know exactly what I'm talking about. You do the whole innocent puppy dog routine while making humming noises and everyone gets off your back and stops asking you "hard" questions. Yeah, no…that may work on people like Jacob who falls for that kind of shit to the bull, but not me. I'm street smart."

I blink at him. We live in one of the most isolated and rich communities in America. Literally no one here is street smart. We're all rich suburbanites.

"Stop blanking out on me and answer the question" Jacob throws his arms up in obvious frustration.

"About Harper?" I ask trying to get back on topic. We seem to be doing some kind of weird mental dance with one another. I think this is the type of situation I've heard about where both parties are trying to be one another at mental games.

"Mmmmm" Michael says. I know he's mocking me.

"Honestly, she hasn't said anything about you." I say, shrugging my shoulders and running my hand through my hair "Well she did say you were a dick but that's not a secret or anything."

I can't believe I called Michael Campbell a dick to his face. I am getting way to bold today. I need to go home and reacquaint myself with passiveness.

"So…she hasn't said anything to you about me, at all?" Michael asks, leaning in so close to me his curly hair could literally fly up my nose if I breathed in too hard.

I back up an inch or 5.

"Not really, no."

Michael backs up and nods his head. He looks relieved. That's weird.

"Why?"

Did I really just ask him that? ME? The guy who tries to avoid conversation at all times decides that today would be a good day to get inquisitive. With the one guy in my so-called band who actively seems to dislike. Geeze I'm an idiot.

Michael glances at me, cocking his head. I can tell he's surprised that I asked him that. I'm pretty surprised myself.

"Uh. No reason." He shifts his eyes and avoids looking at me directly.

He seems like he's lying but honestly I don't care. I'll just ask Harper about it later.

We sit in silence and start on the chemistry lab assignment for the day. This relative peace only lasts about halfway through the class though.

"You're not a slut like Harper, right?" Michael asks his voice sounding low and kind of threatening.

"Don't call my sister a slut" I don't look at him and continue doing the assignment.

Michael reaches over and puts his hands on my paper, blocking me from doing the assignment.

I look up at him. He's glaring at me.

Michael could be really attractive if he didn't glare so much and actually smiled every now and then. Jacob must be a saint.

"I'm serious. You better not be planning on honing in on Jacob. Just because he's nice to you doesn't mean he wants to fuck you. I know your family gets that confused a lot of times so I wanted to be clear". Michael glowers at me as he makes this statement.

I pull his hands away from my paper.

"I'm not interested in Jacob and even if I was I don't go for guys who have boyfriends OR girlfriends."

I lean away from him and continue doing my work.

Michael leans in really close to me. I try to lean away but as he gets closer I realize the more I lean away the more likely it is that I will fall out of my chair. I sit still and allow him to get close to me.

His mouth is near my ear and he whispers "Good…because it doesn't matter if you're interested or not. Jacob would never date someone like you. You're a loser who is so insignificant to the world no one even knew you existed…we all literally thought you were some transfer student. How lame."

Michael backs away from me and goes back to his work. He looks satisfied with himself.

My stomach hurts and I feel like I swallowed some lead. I try not to show that he's bothered me.

I mean, he's not wrong so why get upset over it?

The rest of the class goes by in relative silence between the two of us.


	14. Fourteen

Chemistry finally ends and I slowly trail out of the room behind everyone else. Thankfully Michael (and why doesn't Michael rhyme with anything that would describe his personality…like asshole, dick, douchebag) was one of the first people out of the room.

I guess he wanted to get as far away from the pathetic loser (aka me) as he could.

Not so thankfully, I have music with the rest of the "band", including that asshole, next period.

Music class isn't too bad for the most part. It's super easy to evade attention because everyone is doing their own thing and a lot of people are actually vying for attention. The only shitty part is when Ms. Frierson decides she's going to go all Mr. Holland's Opus on us and inspire us through song. This typically involves picking out the quieter kids in class (I am literally always called) and forcing us to perform for the entertainment of the class. She made me sing yesterday, which is how I caught the attention of my so-called band.

I really don't have the energy to talk to any of them, especially after what happened with Michael, so when I walk in I resolutely do not look at them (even though I can totally see them in my peripheral waving at me with an open seat ready) and walk as quickly to a seat as far away from them as possible.

Today Ms. Frierson want to focus on the brass section (they have sounded like shit since the beginning of the school year so good call Ms. Frierson), while the rest of us look over the music for the concert and "finger play" our instruments. Finger playing is not nearly as hot as one would think. It's just us not actually making noise but touching the keys lightly to practice.

As I've mentioned earlier, our whole town is rich, this means that for music class there are some really weird and obscure instruments that most high schoolers probably wouldn't play due to lack of funding but our school has access to any and every instrument a teenager would want to play.

I stick to the classic piano/keyboard. Everyone is music has to at least carry a note singing wise though because Ms. Frierson refuses to have to find sheet music and arrangement for something like the Nabal for concerts. She makes the ones with the really weird instruments sing for concerts and teaches them to play on the side.

I study my sheet music for a few minutes and decide to start practicing in the middle of the song (that's the hardest part). As I start finger playing, I feel a pair of hands on my shoulder.

I whirl around; ready to hit whoever is touching me, my right arm up ready to strike. I see blonde hair and a big toothy smile. I force myself to stop when I realize its Ethan.

Well…at least it's not all four of them, I guess.

I give him the best flat face I can and turn back around.

"Dude…you were gonna slap my face off weren't you?" Ethan says, laughing so loud the girl practicing next to me glares at me as if I was the one laughing. I hold my hands up as a gesture of innocence and she rolls her eyes. Great. Now some unknown tuba player wants me dead.

I refuse to turn around and respond so Ethan, naturally, comes from behind my chair and stands directly in front of me, still grinning as if the thought of being faceless is just hilarious to him.

"Don't grab me like that" I seriously don't like being touched all that much anyway and I really don't like being touched without warning.

"Sorry man, but I had to see why you decided to sit in exile over here. Didn't you see us waving you over?" Ethan gestures to the corner of Hell they've decided to occupy.

"Uh. No?" I try to go back to reading my sheet music.

"Oh my god! Ian…are you being a lying liar right now?" Ethan asks me, grinning.

"No, I really didn't see you." I widen my eyes to look innocent.

"Colleen" Ethan calls to the tuba player who glared at me earlier, walking over to her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders "Do you think Ian is being a lying liar or is it just me?"

Colleen grins like she has a secret and runs her fingers through her hair "He is so lying, Ethan. Like everyone in class could see you guys trying to get his attention." Colleen is looking at Ethan through fluttered eyelashes.

Who knew Ethan had this kind of effect on straight girls.

Gross.

"Thank you Colleen. You're going to be a great eye witness one day." Ethan pats her on the back while she giggles and lightly hits his arm. Grosser.

Ethan walks back over to me and pulls out an empty chair, sitting almost knee to knee with me. This guy has no concept of boundaries. I try to subtlety shift away.

"You know to be the gay one Ian, you sure don't like being touched by men" Ethan announced tugging me closer to him. I try to pull away but he pulls me back in "Come on, Slugger, better get used to being pressed up against a handsome fellow."

"Are you handsome though?" I ask trying to jerk away.

"You know that hurts, Ian. It really does."

I sigh and let Ethan pet my hair. Honestly I know he's just doing it to fuck with me.

"Now tell Daddy Ethan what's wrong and why you don't wanna play with your new friends."

"Gross. Could you please not refer to yourself as my daddy, like ever?" I yank my head away, trying to fix my hair. Harper would be proud. I usually don't even comb my hair and now I'm finger tousling it.

Ethan laughs but then drops off and makes the most serious face I've ever seen on him. "But no, seriously, what's wrong. You looked really upset when you came in here and you avoided eye contact with us."

I glance over at the other boys, Jacob and Michael are deep in conversation with one another but Charles is staring right at me and Ethan. He smiles and waves when he sees I'm looking over. For some reason my face feels hot and I feel the need to duck my head.

"Nothing is wrong Ethan, I just like being alone." I say as I glance back at him.

"Are you blushing at Charles?" Ethan asks, noticing my hot face.

"What, no…" My face feels ever hotter now. Great. I probably look like a sunburnt tomato.

"You totally are!" Ethan's face cracks back out into a grin and he rubs his hands like a cheap Disney villain. "This is perfect you know. You get me with Harper, I get you with Charles. We all have happy sexually fulfilling lives. YAY!" He wraps his right arm around me and pumps his left fist in the air.

"Shut up, Ethan. People can hear you" I bury my face in my hands and hope for a manhole to form and swallow me up.

"Whatever, whatever. Who cares?" Ethan says laughing and bumping my shoulders against his. "I just found a new bro. In fact Ian, I think you may become my best bro EVER"

"Is there a form I can fill out to deny this request?" I ask running my hand through my hair and trying not to fall out of my seat as Ethan bumps me again.

"Oh shush! Anyway…back to you my bro. What's wrong? You seem even more like a kicked puppy than usual. Is your eye bothering you, bae?" Ethan leans over and tries to touch my black eye, I lean away and swat at him.

"No, Ethan my eye is fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine." I look down at my lap and wrap my arms around myself.

"Dude, you're hugging yourself. You are not fine." Ethan sounds serious again and maybe even a little sad. I glance up at him from the corner of my eye and he kind of looks like the downtrodden puppy.

"It's not a big deal. I'll get over it." I saw sitting up and trying to smile at him.

"Are you sure because you can totally talk to me. I am a great listener. Plus you're going to be my brother in-law one day so we gotta be chill now ya feel?" Ethan says rubbing my back. Which actually kind of hurts a lot because of the marks on my back from last night. I stiffen my back and Ethan stops and goes for my hair instead. Which isn't much better but at least he isn't about to split open a wound.

"Yeah, thanks though." I smile awkwardly at him.

"Anyway, back to you. So you and Charles huh? I can see it. You're both good looking. You're both the strong silent types. You probably have a huge dick…"

I turn to Ethan and give him a horrified look. I seriously probably look like a nun in a bar right now.

"Stop right now. There is no "me and Charles"…and my dick size is none of your business oh my god."

Ethan throws his head back and laughs loudly. This time Colleen gives him the dirty looks. Ha.

"There is going to be a you and Charles though. I can feel it." Ethan says nodding as if he's some kind of wise man instead of the village idiot.

I ignore him.

Ethan continues to talk to me the rest of the class period and at one point almost got the both of us thrown into detention when he straddled my lap and asked Colleen to take pictures of us for Instagram.

Ms. Frierson was so thrown that the other disruptive student was me that she "let it slide". She slipped a note to me before class ended congratulating me on "expanding my friend group".

Geeze even the teachers know I have no friends.

After music, I was corralled like a sheep by Ethan to lunch so I could "sit with my new bros" (his words, obviously not mine).

I took the seat furthest from Michael and next to Charles. Ethan gave me a pointed look which I rolled my eyes at and ignored.

Seriously…Charles is hot. I'm a loser. A loser who could disappear tomorrow and no one would notice. A loser whose own mother doesn't even care about him. A loser whose dad walked out and never showed his face again. A loser who has epilepsy.

Charles is cool and suave and smokes cigarettes and looks like an Arab James Dean. Everyone literally keeps referring to me as a kicked puppy dog.

Arab James Dean would not date a kicked puppy dog.

I take out my lunch (pita bread with hummus ). Charles looks over at my lunch and grins.

"You like pita and hummus huh? You know that's from my people." He smirks at me and nods his head like he's super satisfied with himself. My face feels hot again. Maybe I'm getting sick.

From across the table Ethan throws a carrot at Charles. Charles looks surprised for a minute but then rolls his eyes and reaches across the table, taking Ethan's carrots. "You know the rules Ethan, if you can't act civilized with your food than you aren't allowed to eat it."

"Ahh come on Charles! I was just trying to get you to stop acting like you're the Don Juan of hummus. You were looking pretty gross there dude." Ethan whines and tries to get the carrots out of Charles' grasp.

"Ethan don't be dumb, I could never look gross." Charles runs his fingers through his hair, looking like a male model. I swear I hear porno music playing.

"What do you think, Ian? Do you think Charles could look gross?" Ethan turns to me, grinning like an asshole.

My face feels hot again and I start coughing. I decide it's time to shove a piece of pita with hummus in my mouth. I glare at Ethan out of the corner of my eye. He smirks back.

"Ethan the only one at this table who could ever look gross is you." Charles says, kicking Ethan under the table and leaning closer to me.

"I concede that point." Ethan says grinning. "I mean not everyone in the friend group can look like a Greek god." He leans over and grabs his carrots from Charles, stuffing one in his mouth while winking at the two of us.

"Who's a Greek god?" Jacob butts in, turning from Michael to the rest of the table.

"Ian, obviously" Ethan says quirking his eyebrows up and pointing at me.

"Oh. Yeah. Truth." Jacob nods his head like it's a fact.

It's not. It's totally not. I look average in every sense of the word.

I roll my eyes at the both of them and go back to eating my hummus and pita.

"I mean even with the black eye he's like chiseled perfection." Jacob continues speaking, almost sounding kind of sad about it.

I look up in surprise. Unfortunately I catch Michael's eyes. He does not look happy that his boyfriend thinks I'm hot. He cracks his knuckles and glares at me. I roll my eyes. It'll take a lot more than just the threat of a punch to scare me.

Ethan, Jacob and Michael get into a side conversation about their favorite Greek god/goddess (Ethan apparently has a huge boner for Athena because she's a "badass"…of course).

"So how's your day been?" Charles asks me, looking in amusement at his friends across the table.

I look down and try to think. How has my day been? I don't even know myself. Exhausting. Scary. Intimidating. Good food though…

"Uh…I had some really good food so far." I try to go with the positive. People like positive people.

Charles smirks and quirks his eyebrow at me.

"That's solid." He says nodding his head like I make sense.

"What about you?" I look down at my food. I can't believe I am making small talk. Small talk with Charles Amer, the Arab James Dean.

"It was good until this guy I just met who I want to be my friend ditched me and my friends to sit next to Colleen Driscoll in music class." He cocks his head towards me and kind of smiles.

I pause my eating and look up at him.

"I did not "ditch" you and especially not for Colleen" I can feel myself starting to grin. I almost feel like laughing. That's a weird feeling.

"Sure, sure." Charles says, smiling and nodding his head. He looks me full in the face and gets solemn "But seriously dude, you looked sad when you walked in. I get you like space but don't you know…block us out completely."

My chest feels tight, but in a good way. Usually when I feel like shit, no one asks about it. Harper would but she already knows what's wrong and doesn't like to wallow. Now Ethan and Charles have asked me if I'm okay.

I nod my head because I feel like if I actually answer him I may tear up and that would be super lame, especially with that asshole Michael in front of us.

Charles smiles at me and continues eating. We eat in silence for the next couple of minutes, until lunch is over. I'm mulling over life. I don't know why Charles doesn't talk.

When the bell calling for lunch to end rings, Charles grabs my arm as I'm about to stand up. He motions for me to sit back down. So obviously I do. If a hot guy tells you to sit down, you sit down. I watch as everyone else files out of lunch and look at Charles. He smirks at me.

"Wanna skip your last class with me?"

I nod my head like a goon. He grins.

I am in so much trouble.


	15. Fifteen

So we're sitting underneath the bleachers to the track and football field.

And by "we" I obviously mean me and Charles.

Which is weird.

Two days ago he didn't even know my name and now he's asked me to skip class with him. And I'm stupid because I said yes.

But I'm a sucker for long eye lashes…which Charles has. Long eye lashes framing perfect brown eyes. They're like literal pools of Coca Cola…which is the stupidest analogy I have ever thought but there's a reason why I'm barely scraping by in English.

I'm stupid, let's be real here. Thankfully I've learned by now to just keep my mouth shut and not say anything. It keeps me out of trouble from my stepdad and no one knows how lame and dumb I am.

I've been looking down at my shoes (red chuck taylors because Harper says they make me look less boring. She thinks I dress like someone from Portland…whatever that means) when I finally get the courage to look up. Charles is staring at me, smirking, sitting across from me on a concrete table thing. I chose to stand. Better to keep my distance, honestly.

I clear my throat and try to smile back. This makes Charles break out into an actual smile. I look away and try to think of something interesting to say.

"Uh…what's up with the concrete table?"

Smooth, Brookes, real smooth.

Charles huffs out a weird laugh and shrugs "You know, I've never wondered that and I've been sneaking out here since freshman year. Good question." He cocks his head to the side and takes out a cigarette, putting it to his lips and taking out a lighter.

He looks so cool.

Which is bad to think, I know. Smoking can kill you and its stupid to smoke and all that.

But I'm stupid so…

"Can I have a cigarette?" I ask, scratching my head and trying to look innocent.

Charles raises his eyebrows as he inhales on his cigarette.

"You wanna smoke?" He crosses his arms like he doesn't trust me. Smoke is coming like a cloud from his mouth. He looks magical right now.

"Yeah, why not?" I shrug my shoulders and try to smile.

"Smoking is stupid, Ian." He shakes his head like he can't believe I would ask him for a cigarette, even though he smokes all the time.

"I know."

"I thought you were smarter than this." Charles actually has the gall to sound disappointed in me.

"I'm not actually. I'm not smart at all. I'm actually super stupid." I nod my head as I say this. I'm just stating facts. Which is actually pretty stupid of me since I'm trying to impress Charles or something. I don't know what I'm trying to do with Charles actually.

"Don't talk about yourself like that." Charles frowns, as if me stating facts about my lack of intelligence is a personal insult to him.

I shrug and look away.

I've probably pissed him off and now he never wants to talk to me or hang out with me ever again.

I told you it's better when I don't talk.

Charles stares at me for a minute or so (not that I'm looking at him or anything…at least not full on…just out of the corner of my eye) and sighs, pulling out a cigarette.

"Come over here and sit beside me if you insist on me giving you cancer." Charles gestures towards an empty spot on the concrete table beside him.

"Is it cold? It looks cold. Concrete in the shade is always super cold." I walk over to him and stand in front of the spot he's patting his hand on.

Charles rolls his eyes and smirks at me, before taking off his jacket and putting it on the empty spot.

"Happy, my queen?" He asks as I finally sit down beside him.

My cheeks feel hot again. Maybe I'm getting sick.

I shrug my shoulder and look at my knees.

Charles hands me a cigarette. I take it.

I already feel less pathetic honestly.

"Have you ever smoked before?" Charles asks, leaning in a little too close. I lean away from him and shake my head.

"Just some pot every now and then." I'm looking at the cigarette between my index and middle fingers, trying to avoid eye contact with Charles. Being this close to him feels weird.

"Let me light it for you then" Charles takes the cigarette from between my fingers and puts it between his lips, lighting it for me before putting the cigarette between my lips. I grab it without inhaling and take it out with my middle and index finger.

"Your spit has now been in my mouth." I say looking at the cigarette between my fingers.

Why the fuck did I say that?

I can feel Charles let out a snort of laughter beside me.

"Yeah, yeah I guess it has. Sorry man. Now stop talking and go ahead and smoke the damn thing. They aren't cheap." His hand lightly touches my hand holding the cigarette. I bring it to my lips and inhale.

Oh. My. God.

Awful idea.

I can't breathe.

I let out a sound that can only be described as a strangled cat noise. I'm coughing and wheezing. My eyes are watering. This is so much worse than smoking pot.

Charles is literally cackling like a witch beside me.

Although he is nice enough to hand me a bottle of water and take the cigarette out of my hand so I don't burn myself while hacking to death. He starts thumping me on the back, trying to help me restore air flow, I guess.

"I told you not to do it, man." Charles says, grinning from ear to ear as I finally get my coughing fit under control.

"Why do you do that to yourself?" My voice sounds kind of croaky and gross.

"I guess I'm even dumber than you." Charles shrugs and looks down, smiling softly.

"Well I'm never doing that again." I rub my hand on my knees.

Charles knocks his shoulder into me and turns to me smiling "Good."

"Did I at least look a little cool before I coughed up my right lung?" I don't know why I asked that. I guess because I'm genuinely curious.

"You look better without the cigarettes. For sure." Charles smiles at me and nods as if he's made some kind of grand statement.

I don't say anything to that and I can feel Charles staring at me again. I look away.

"You look even better without the shiner on your eye." Charles gestures to the black eye my stepfather gave me the night before. I had forgotten about it. I touch it self-consciously. I hate when he leaves marks that everyone can see. It makes me feel like the whole world knows what a loser I am.

"Really, it doesn't make me look tough?" I can feel the corners of my lips going up in an attempt of a smile.

"A little, but I don't like tough on you. You're too sweet looking." Charles is staring at me like he wants to crack me open and figure me out. I don't like it.

I shrug my shoulders and say, "That's what I get for rough housing with Harper. She punched me right in the eye by accident. Not so tough, huh?" I try to smile again but it feels forced. I look away.

"Harper did that?" Charles sounds skeptical and out of the corner of my eye, I can see his eye brow raised as if he doesn't believe me. For some reason that kind of annoys me even though I am lying.

"She packs a mean punch." I nod my head and shrug.

"That's odd." Charles is moving towards my eyes as if he wants to inspect it even closer, I move my head away as he tries to touch it.

"What's odd? Me getting beat up by my sister?" I try to huff out a laugh.

"No, it's just that Harper has tiny hands and the bruising around your eyes looks like it came from someone with really big hands."

I glance over at Charles when he says this. He has a look on his face I can't read.

"What are you, on a CSI team or something?" I quirk my eyebrows at him.

He looks down and laughs.

"Sorry it's just…"Charles looks worried about whatever he's going to ask me.

My stomach tightens. What if Charles somehow knows about my stepfather and Harper and all of it? I feel sick.

"Just what?" My voice sounds shaky to my own ears.

"It wasn't Michael was it?" Charles looks up at me with such a serious face I have to laugh. "Like he didn't attack you after practice or something, did he? I know he has some kind of problem with you…"

Charles rolls his eyes as I laugh. This is probably the first genuine laugh I've had in a while.

"No, Charles. It wasn't Michael. I told you…Harper punched me on accident." I feel more confident in my answer now that it's obvious Charles has no idea what's actually happening.

"Michael is being an asshole to you though, isn't he?" Charles leans closer to me, propping his head on his left hand and balancing his arm on his crossed legs. He looks like an arm chair psychologist, sitting like this.

I shrug. I don't want to start some kind of issue between Charles and Michael and the rest of the group.

"It's just… I know you two have chemistry together and then when you came into music right after chemistry you looked so sad. And I know Michael has been acting extra tetchy with you in the band now so I just kind of assumed he has something to do with you avoiding us today or something."

Charles is surprisingly perceptive. That could be a problem.

"He, uh, he did kind of accuse me of trying to "steal" Jacob or something, I guess, in chemistry today." I look over at Charles and scratch my head.

Charles nods his head and rolls his eyes as if it makes sense.

"Michael gets jealous easy and is super insecure about, like, everything."

I nod my head like it makes sense.

"I guess Jacob paying attention to you freaked him out a little." Charles reaches over and touches my knee, squeezing it firmly. "Don't take it personally; he was like that with me at one point too. Any good looking guy who likes guys is gonna get shit from him at some point, especially if Jacob is nice to them."

I swallow hard and nod my head.

"It wasn't a big deal, honestly."

"Then why did you avoid us in class today?" I notice Charles has yet to move his hand from my knee. It literally feels like the weight of a thousand pounds on my leg. But in a good way.

I shrug and avoid looking at him.

"Are you gonna sit with us tomorrow?"

I shrug again. I honestly don't know. All this talking is making me tired. I'm not good at prolonged contact with people.

"Well, you don't have to if you don't want to but I'd like you to." Charles squeezes my knee again and I nod my head.

We sit in silence until the bell signaling the end of the day rings.

It was nice, sitting there. It felt like for once there was no pressure on me to say or do the right things in front of Charles.


	16. Sixteen

When the bell rings for us to go home, Charles jumps up from the concrete table and turns to me, holding out his hand.

I look at it.

"You know I am up to date with all my shots, right?" Charles smirks at me, waving his hand around in a circular motion in front of me.

I roll my eyes and grab his hand, allowing for him to pull me up to my feet. Charles squeezes my hand before letting go. Weird.

"Let's get to the parking lot before the rest of them so we can call dibs on better seats," Charles says, motioning for me to follow him.

"What? You want Ethan to sit in the middle? Because that's literally the only difference we can get in terms of seating arrangements. You know Michael is always gonna sit shot gun to Jacob."

I follow behind Charles anyway because honestly I do want Ethan to sit in the middle. I always get stuck in the middle spot. All two times that I've rode with them.

"Well now that you've pointed that out, I suppose we could take a leisurely stroll to the car instead of the powerwalk I had planned." Charles smiles and drapes an arm around me as he speaks.

"Actually…Ethan is smaller than us so he should have to sit in the middle." I speed up my walking, trying to dislodge Charles' arm off of me. He matches me walking speed and grips my arm harder.

"Yeah but if I have to be knee-to-knee with anyone in that car I'd rather it be you."

My stomach flutters but I don't know why. The thing is, Charles is probably telling the truth but it still doesn't mean anything, really. From what I've heard (and not talking a lot means I hear a lot more than most people think. People will say anything in front of me because they know I have no one to tell and no reason to tell., Charles says and does this kind of stuff to a lot of people. He makes them feel special and they sleep together and then he moves on to someone he find more interesting. I'm not going to get too excited and think he actually likes me when he's probably more than likely just bored and interested in hooking up.

I'm not interested in that. The idea of sex scares me because of what happened with my stepfather. The idea of letting someone see me naked scares me. The whole idea sounds like you have to allow yourself to be pretty vulnerable and I don't think I can right now (or ever. I'm probably broken or something. I'm the only 15 year old boy in the world who has no interest in sex). I don't know how Harper does it with all that she's been through. I guess she's stronger or braver than me.

"Mmmm" I think that's the best response for the moment. I glance over at Charles and he looks a bit frustrated. Oh well.

We walk a bit in silence until we get to Jacob's car. Students are running around the parking lot trying to get to cars, some are already in their cars and trying to get out of the parking. None of the guys are out yet, though.

"I mean I guess we could make Ethan sit in the middle. But he doesn't smell as good as you." Charles takes his arm off my shoulder and smiles at me.

"Well it's just for today anyway. Tomorrow I'm riding my bike to school again." I shrug and avoid looking at him. I think I gave Charles the wrong impression by skipping with him today. He thinks we're friends or something (it's the 'or something' I'm worried about). I need to re-establish my boundaries with him. Or something. I just know it would be a terrible idea to do anything with him (even though he's good looking and I want to).

"Do you actually ride a bike to school every day?" Charles looks at me, cocking his head to the side. He looks like he doesn't believe me.

"It's good for the environment." I shrug my shoulders

"When do you get your license? Are you still going to bike to school then or are you going to drive like the rest of us gremlins to the environment?" Charles is pulling out another cigarette but isn't lighting up. His eyebrows are drawn tight like he thinks it's so weird that I would rather bike to school than be driven.

"Uh, I turn 16 in October but, I'm not getting my license." I scratch my head and look around for Jacob or Ethan…even Michael would be a good interrupter at this point.

"Because of the environment thing?" Charles cocks his head to the side and puts a cigarette in between his lips, but doesn't light up. He just holds it there.

It's actually because of the epilepsy thing but I don't feel like going into that right now. They already think I'm a weirdo because I don't eat meat and don't drink…plus the biking thing is odd for the kind of community we live in.

"Yeah, something like that."

I look up and see Jacob and Michael coming across the parking lot. Jacob is saying something to Michael, they both look angry. I wonder what's going on in paradise.

"For god's sake Charles, can you please for once not smoke in my car? I'm not in the mood to put up with your shitty habit just because you want to be the Arab Clint Eastwood." Jacob snaps at Charles, unlocking his trunk and throwing his book bag in the back, he then snatches

Michael's book bag out of his hand and throws it in the trunk as well, this time even more forcefully.

Charles raises his eyebrows and takes the cigarette out of his mouth.

"I haven't even lit it up yet man, chill."

"Plus we all know Charles thinks he James Dean not Clint Eastwood, he's like 100." Michael says opening the door to the passenger side and sliding in, slamming it shut.

Jacob rolls his eyes and opens the door to the driver's side and says into the car "Well I obviously meant young Clint Eastwood not current Clint Eastwood. Watch some movies made before 2010 and get some culture, Michael." Jacob then slams the door shut before Michael can respond, effectively shutting him up.

Jacob rolls his eyes at me and Charles

"Sorry guys, Michael's acting like an asshole. Well more so than usual."

"It's cool. We all know he has his moods." Charles says shaking his head and slightly smiling.

I choose not to say anything. Honestly Jacob seems to be just as pissy as Michael, maybe because of Michael but maybe Michael's being an asshole because Jacob's being pissy. I don't know. Relationships are hard, I guess. And even though Michael is always rude to me, it doesn't mean that means he's always wrong when it comes to him and Jacob fighting.

The three of us stand in silence for a few minutes until Ethan finally walks up. Ethan seems to be the most extroverted out of all the guys so far. It took him forever to get to the car because he has to stop and talk to everyone he met on the way (and the parking lot is pretty big).

"Ian! Where the fuck were you in Spanish?" Ethan says by way of greeting.

"We skipped." Charles answers for me, grinning. "I let Ian try his first and probably last cigarette." He gestures for Ethan to get in the car, not allowing for arguments that he has to sit in the middle and climbs in behind him. I get in the car on the other side, behind Michael.

"Geeze Charles! Two days and you've already gotten him to skip school and smoke." Jacob climbs into the car and starts it up. "His parents are not going to let him hang out with us if they find out what a shitty influence you are."

My stomach drops at the mention of my parents. I didn't even think about my stepfather finding out about me skipping. I am such an idiot.

"Uh, how likely is it that they will find out?" I speak up. Everyone glances at me, as if they forgot I was in the car, even though I'm the actual topic of conversation.

"Relax, I've skipped loads!" Ethan says, putting his arm around me and Charles and pushing us forward so that our heads touch his "As long as you don't miss over 10 days in one class, the school doesn't notify your parents."

"I don't take your parents to be strict." Jacob says glancing at me as he drives towards our neighborhood. "I mean they pretty much let Harper run wild."

"Um well. Harper just takes the punishment and does what she wants anyway." I say, shrugging. Harper honestly has probably never known any other way of living so I guess it's not as much of a big deal. She has always been hurt by her dad. I'm too much of a coward though to live like her.

"Oh course she does." Michael says from the passenger side in the front seat.

What does that even mean? He is so passive aggressive.

The rest of the car ride is spent in relative silence due to Michael making rude comments to anyone who tries to start a conversation.

The mood lightens once we get to Jacob's house for practice. I guess Michael actually likes being in a band and so he doesn't want to alienate everyone to the point where they don't want to go to practice or something.

Jacob's maid has sandwiches already laid out in the basement. She even made a vegetarian sandwich, for me. That was nice. My own mother isn't as thoughtful.

As we start eating Jacob stands up, pulling his hands together and trying to look official.

"So I got us a gig for this weekend, with Ian as part of the band."

"Uh. Are you sure Ian's ready to play with us like that? I mean he is good and everything but that's a lot of pressure. He hasn't even been in the band for more than a day, dude." Ethan speaks up, looking at me.

"Oh I'm sure he'll do fine. Ian, you seem like a man who does well under pressure." Jacob says, nodding to me.

I do?

"How do you know he's comfortable performing in a crowd yet?" Ethan says, not letting it go.

"Well the best thing to do to get someone comfortable doing something is to just push them in." Jacob rolls his eyes at Ethan like he's being stupid.

"Uh no it's not, it's better to ease them in." Ethan takes the same tone that Jacob has, indicating that he thinks Jacob is the stupid one.

"What's the gig?" Charles asks, interrupting them. "Maybe if you tell us what it is, he can decide whether or not he's cool with playing."

"It's actually at a house party, for a birthday." Jacob says sounding confident that it'll all be fine "Ian actually knows the guy."

"I do?" I ask. I don't know anyone. This is making me kind of nervous.

"Yeah, he goes to school with Harper. Said you guys hung out once and got along really well. Uhh Jackson?" Jacob says looking through his phone at the texts he got.

"Jackson Thomas?" I ask. I can feel my eyebrows touching my hairline…that is how high up they are right now.

"Didn't he use to go to school with us?" Ethan asked "That name sounds super familiar…"

Michael is looking at me, like he's trying to figure something out.

"How do you know Jackson, Ian?"

"Like Jacob said…he goes to school with Harper and we hung out once." Oh geeze. Jackson mentioned me specifically? Harper must have told him about the band knowing his birthday was coming up. She's been trying to get me to see him again. She wants me to have a "normal high school experience." Whatever that means.

"Really? Is that all? Just hung out once?" Michael is throwing questions out faster than I can answer, his arms are crossed and he's leaning in, facing me. "Isn't Jackson gay?"

"Yeah I guess so…" I don't know if Jackson's actually out or not but Michael apparently knows enough about him to know he's gay.

"Hmm interesting. Two gays guys just 'hanging out' once and now one wants the other the serenade him at his birthday party surrounded by his loved ones. Hmmm," Michael says, leaning back, acting casual.

"Michael stop implying that Ian had sex with Jackson." Jacob says, rolling his eyes "Its super annoying and kind of homophobic that you think every guy interested in guys hooks up with every other guys interested in guys."

"Well we did kind of fool around but we didn't have sex?" I don't know why I decided to speak up and say that. Literally no one seemed to actually take what Michael had to say seriously.

"Oh." Jacob widens his eyes in surprise.

"Geeze, I thought me and Ian were both inexperienced losers but now apparently it's just me" Ethan says throwing his arms up and laughing.

Michael looks smug.

Charles doesn't look at me at all.

I thought I had learned to keep my mouth shut but apparently it's a lesson that I need a refresher in because I keep saying the stupidest stuff.

"So how come you aren't like boyfriends with him or whatever?" Ethan asked, breaking the awkward silence.

"Ethan, not everyone who hooks up ends up dating." Jacob says, answering for me. He's shooting Ethan a look that clearly says 'stop talking about it.'

"Well Ian doesn't seem like the love 'em and leave 'em type" Ethan says pointing at me while shoving a huge bite of sandwich in his mouth.

"I'm not…" I decide it's time for me to speak up and hopefully end the conversation.

"So what happened then? Jackson seemed kind of interested in seeing you at the party. He mentioned you specifically." Jacob says, deciding to pursue the conversation now that I decided to say something. I really need to learn to shut up.

"Uhh nothing really…"

I look up and see everyone has their eyebrows raised at me.

I let out a loud sigh and roll my eyes.

"My stepfather caught us and you know…he didn't like it too much." I glance around the room, avoiding eye contact with all of them.

"That sucks dude, homophobic parents are dicks. What does your mom think?" Ethan has decided to drape himself over me, I guess as a means to offer comfort about my dick parents.

I shrug.

Luckily they take that as a cue to drop the conversation and move on to actually practicing.


	17. Seventeen

"Are you sure you don't wanna stay for dinner? All the other guys are." Jacob asks me, leaning slightly out of his front door and staring at me, standing on the 4th step down.

"I can't. My stepfather is big on eating as a family." I shrug my shoulders and turn around; about to make my way home, but Jacob grabs my shoulder from behind. Everyone is so grabby in this circle. I stop and turn around to look at him.

"So do you need a ride tomorrow? To school?" Jacob pulls his hand away from my shoulder and smile at me.

"No thanks, I like to ride my bike."

"You're really healthy huh?"

I shrug

"Well if your change your mind…"

I nod my head and turn around, this time not being stopped by Jacob.

I quickly make my way down the street and into my house. I shut the door quietly behind me. My mom is usually taking a nap around this time and if she complains to my stepfather about Harper or me "slamming doors" or "being loud" when we get home from school then there will be hell to pay.

I slip off my shoes and hold them in my hand. My mom has this weird thing where neither I nor Harper are allowed to wear shoes in the house (we have to take them off immediately or she'll sick my stepfather on us) but we're also not allowed to have our shoes anywhere but our rooms. So she wants them off at the front door but doesn't want them near the front door.

As I make my way up the stairs, passing the second floor where my mom and stepfather sleep, Maggie our cook and maid, pokes her head out of my stepfather's study and whisper "Ian, your mom wants to see you."

I stop walking in mid-motion and quietly hop down the stairs, back onto the second floor and gesture to myself , bright red shoes still in my hand, "Me?"

Maggie nods, eyebrows raised with a crinkle in her forehead as if asking me what is going on. My mom never wants to see me or Harper when we get home. This is her napping hour.

I shrug to Maggie and make my way to my mom's room.

My stepfather and mom technically share a bedroom but they each also have their own rooms as well. My stepfather told my mom when were first moved in that he wanted separate rooms so that if he was working late (he never does) my mom wouldn't be woken up by him coming in late. I think he wanted separate rooms so she wouldn't notice (or could pretend not to notice easier) that he got up in the middle of the night a lot (to "visit" with Harper and sometimes me).

I shift my shoes to my left hand so that I can knock on my mom's door. She would kill me if she knew I put a pair of dirty shoes on her "buttercream" white doors.

I hear a loud sigh from the other side of the door and roll my eyes.

"Come in and please stop that pounding on my door. You are not the police." My mom calls out in an aggravated tone of voice.

I open the door and step inside, closing the door behind me.

"Sorry mom, I didn't mean to "pound" on the door." I totally wasn't pounding, she exaggerates everything. Or maybe being hungover and having a constant headache all the time makes things sound louder and more obnoxious than they are.

I look over at my mom. She's lying on her rose colored chaise lounge with a (presumably) wet washcloth over her eyes. Her hair is in a neat chignon bun, even while lying down. She looks tanner than she did yesterday. She probably played tennis today, before she started her wine. Her wine glass is, obviously, in her hand.

She waves her hand in the air "Never mind that, Ian. Sit down at mama's feet. I have a bone to pick with you."

She lifts her legs slightly to allow me to sit at the end of her chaise lounge and puts her feet in my lap. Her toes have a light pink polish on them, of course.

"Yes?"

My mother sighs and takes a long drink of her wine.

"Why do you insist on hurting me, Ian?" She pulls out a cigarette and lights it up.

Oh geeze. What now?

"I don't?"

"Really, Ian?" My mom sits up, removing the washcloth from her face and looking directly at me.

"Yes?"

"Hmmmm. Well then. Why did I have to hear about you hanging out with Jacob Cross from his horrible mother?" My mother takes a puff from her cigarette, staring at me.

"I didn't think you'd care?" I shrug and stare at the shoes in my hand.

"Ughhh. She made me feel like a bad mother! Like I have no idea what your life is like or something. She was all like 'Ian didn't tell you he came over? 'Ian didn't tell you he's in Jacob's band?' as if I should just like sit around and talk to you about your life 24/7 like I have no life." She takes another puff of her cigarette and puts the washcloth back over her eyes, laying back.

"Sorry?"

"And you know your stepfather is not going to like you being in a band with that Jacob kid. Everyone in town knows he's a little "funny" if you know what I mean, and your stepfather does not want another repeat of the Jackson incident."

"Are you going to tell him?" I feel sick. Usually my mom will just ignore something until it goes away but her confronting me is making me nervous.

"Oh get a grip! Oh course I'm not going to tell him! The last thing I need right now is the added stress of the two of you fighting. I'm 34 and I'm starting to get forehead wrinkles. I can't be the wife of a plastic surgeon and have forehead wrinkles. No, no, no! It's best that he not find out about your little shenanigans."

"Ok." I nod, even though she can't see me. I move to stand up but she pulls her legs down, blocking me from getting up. I raise my eyebrows.

"And another thing! Your school called me today and told me you missed your last class. Skipping, Ian really?" She's done with her cigarette and put it out in the crystal ashtray beside her.

I feel like my heart is falling into my stomach, that my lungs are collapsing, that the world is folding in on itself. So much for Ethan's theory that they don't call your parents unless you miss more than 10 days.

"Please don't tell Robert." My stepfather would really murder me over skipping. I try to make myself take steady breaths so I don't pass out.

"Well obviously. Did you not hear me about the forehead wrinkles thing, Ian? You never listen!" My mom sighs loudly and sits up, leaning forward towards me.

"Here have some wine, you're like totally freaking out." She tries to hand me the wine but I wave it away.

"Mom you know I can't drink because of my epilepsy meds."

"Oh right…that is so lame." She finishes off the last of her wine. "But seriously Ian, I better not get a call like that from the school again. Joining bands, skipping class, plus that incident with that Jackson kid. Do you know what people are going to think?"

"No?" Although I have a broad idea of where she is going with this.

"They're going to think that you're some kind of glittery gay homosexual. Harper has already caused us enough harm, what with her sleeping her way through the town. We don't need you to start turning into Freddie Mercury." She makes an exaggerated shuddering movement with her body.

"I'm not…"

"I hope not. I understand that boys like you who grow up without fathers tend to be more feminine and everything but your stepfather will not tolerate that kind of behavior in his household and as his wife I have to abide by his morals." My mom lightly touches her temple, smoothing out the baby hairs there.

"I understand."

"You better. You know how he gets when you and Harper provoke him and quite frankly that is his right as the head of the household."

"I know."

I can never tell if she honestly believes that Harper and I deserve it or if it's just something she tells herself so that she can sleep at night.

"Well, what are you still doing here? Dinner will be ready soon and I need some alone time before then." She lifts her legs, allowing me to get up and leave.

As I reach the door to exit, she says one last thing "And Ian? Please brush your hair before dinner, you look awful."

"Ok."

I exit my mom's room. Well, that could have gone better but it didn't go as badly as it could have gone, I guess.

I check the time on my cell phone and decide to take my shoes to my room and the head down to the dining room. Better to be early than sorry. If we're late for dinner my stepfather loses his mind.

I walk into the dining room, surprised to find Harper already seated. She usually likes to push her luck when it comes to dinner, getting there barely in time. She waves to me and winks as I sit across from her.

"What did the lady of the house want?"

I shake my head as a way of telling her I'll tell her later. You never know when my stepfather is just around the corner and I don't want him hearing about the conversation me and my mom had.

I'm just lucky my mom decided to keep this from him. Forehead wrinkles or not, she usually goes to my stepfather about everything. As if telling on us will ensure her status in the household. Maybe it does.

Anything outside of our rooms is honestly off limits for most conversation. My stepfather will use anything and everything as an excuse to punish us. I've been hit for "whispering too loud." Plus I'm pretty sure he likes to listen in on our conversations in the hallways for information to use against us.

After about ten minutes of silence where Harper made more and more ridiculous faces at me, my mom enters the room, holding another full glass of wine and takes her place at the table. A few minutes later my stepfather comes in.

The atmosphere in the room changes slightly. It's probably unnoticeable to Maggie, who brings out all the food, smiling at us and making small conversation.

After Maggie is excused the room feels even colder.

I'm not too scared for myself today though. My bruise from yesterday is pretty fresh. Usually when I have noticeable bruises he avoids punishing me for at least a week, lest someone gets suspicious. I'm pretty confident he will at least leave me alone. I'm more scared for Harper.

"Still not eating meat, huh?" My stepfather asks, as always.

"No sir."

"Maybe one day you'll be a real man."

I choose not to say anything. I avoid his eyes.

"So I got some interesting news today." He says, grinning while cutting into his meat. He looks like Hannibal.

"Oh yeah?" My mom asks. She is usually the only one brave (stupid?) enough to try and foster conversation at the table, unless she's too hungover.

"Mmmhmm. Seems like our Ian is in a band now?"

I almost choke on the zucchini in my mouth but I force myself to not show any signs of fear and continuing chewing. I glance out of the corner of my eye at my mom. She's no longer eating. I glance at Harper and she's looking down at her plate, violently cutting her meat. I don't look at my stepfather.

"Oh yeah?" My mom asks. I can hear her take a large gulp of wine.

"With John and Joanne's son, from down the street, Dr. Campbell's son, Michael, Steven Jones, you know that FBI guy, his son Ethan and Usman and Charlotte Amer's son is involved too."

"Hmmm" My mom hums, obviously not sure if my stepfather is upset about this or not.

"Honestly, Ian, I'm impressed."

I look up in surprise at my stepfather and he's grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"Why the shock, son? All I've wanted for you was to be normal." He begins cutting into his meat again "Those kids you're in that band with? They're parents are the who's who of this town. You're finally living up to the standard I've set for you and Harper. Maybe this thing will make you less of a fag."

I choose not to point out that 3 of the 4 kids I'm in the band with are sexually attracted to their own gender.

My mom and Harper seem to deflate and relax once they realize nothing bad is going to happen tonight. My stepfather is in a good mood tonight and miracle of miracles it's because of something I did.

The rest of the dinner passes in silence.

After dinner, Harper follows me back to my room.

Well actually she barrages in my room after I shut the door but that's neither here nor there I guess.

"What did your mom want?" Harper throws herself full force on my bed and shimmy in the middle, lying on her stomach. I sit on the floor across from the bed, facing her.

"Well she also found out about the band thing today and asked me about it."

"Geeze…there are literally no secrets in this town. What did she say about it?"

"Well…" I brush my hair out of my face and look up at my ceiling. "She wanted to keep it between me and her because she's getting forehead wrinkles and didn't want to deal with the stress of Robert finding out."

"Typical." Harper rolls her eyes "Remember when your mom drank diet coke and wore jeans? Like what happened to that lady?"

"She married your dad."

"He does tend to ruin everything he touches."

"She uh also found out about me skipping 4th period today. The school called." I was going to not mention it to Harper but honestly if my mom knows about it, it feels kind of sleezy to not tell Harper.

"You skipped 4th period? And did what? Run the track by yourself?" Harper quirks her left eyebrow up and props herself up by her right arm.

"I was hanging out with Charles, he asked me to skip." I rub my nose to hide my smile.

"Charles asked you to skip and you did? Please tell me you touched his dick or something."

"NO! I did smoke one of his cigarettes though."

"This sounds like the middle of a very boring 80s teen movie. What else? Did you guys do a dancing montage in the library?" Harper rolls onto her back, facing away from me and puts her feet against my wall, wiggling her toes.

I ignore her and we sit in silence for a few moments until I remember band practice today.

"Something else happened today too." I say as a way of bringing up the subject. I start picking at my nails. I've got a bad hangnail on my left hand.

"Oh yeah?" Harper arches her back to look at me from behind.

"Yeah…Jacob got us a gig for this weekend apparently."

"Oh yeah?" Harper's tone of voice changes slightly and I know she knows that it's Jackson's party.

"Yeah and you'll never guess whose party it is." I say as I put the hangnail on my left hand in my mouth and start pulling on it. Biting your nails is a disgusting habit, honestly.

"Okay, okay so I might have mentioned to Jackson…who was looking for good entertainment by the way! That you are in a band with Jacob Cross and his friends and that you guys might be available this weekend. That's literally all I said!" Harper rolls back over on her stomach and faces me again, scooting closer to the end of the bed.

"He mentioned me personally to Jacob, Harper!"

I'm a little frustrated with Harper, honestly. I feel like she's trying to meddle in something she doesn't really understand. I made out with Jackson once, I barely know the guy.

I finally pull the nail off my finger. It's bleeding a little.

"That means he likes you!" Harper points out "He wants you to have his babies and make you his wife."

"Well that's an issue since you know I have a dick and everything." I roll my eyes.

"He asks about you all the time Ian! I was just trying to help him out."

"Hmmm."

"Plus you can use him to make Charles jealous at the very least which will probably propel him into making a move faster."

"Harper! That's awful. You don't use people to get to other people."

"Sure you do! Well, I do! It's fun." Harper is smirking at me like she's Draco Malfoy or something.

"How is manipulating people and messing with their feelings "fun"?"

"You're usually not so judgmental. Maybe you getting friends is a bad idea…" Harper rolls back over.

"They're not my friends!"

"Whatever. Are you guys going to do the gig or not?"

I scratch my head and begin picking at my nails on the other hand.

"Jacob wants to so I guess so. But now they know I made out with Jackson so it's going to be awkward."

"You actually told them you made out with him?" Harper has her feet on my wall again.

"Well Michael basically guessed it anyway so I had no choice."

"What did Charles say?" Harper asks.

She really is too invested in my personal life.

"Nothing."

"Do you think he's jealous?"

"I don't know. Why would he be? Hasn't he had a ton of sex?" Not that there is anything wrong with that, of course. People are free to sleep with whoever they want. Of course.

"Well yeah but like you come across as this untouched virgin type so he may be kind of disappointed someone else got first taste of the goods."

"I'm not a jar of jam."

Besides she and I both know who really got "first taste".

"Hmmm."

"Besides, I'm not the only one who is the object of someone's affection." I grin, remembering my conversation with Ethan. He never asked me to not tell Harper. Plus this could help him. Maybe. Probably not.

"Everyone loves me Ian, that's no secret."

"But how many people love you who are in a band with your brother?"

"If you're talking about Michael you can fuck off." Harper doesn't look at me so she misses the look of surprise on my face.

"Why would Michael love you? He's gay…and with Jacob."

"Of course he is. Sorry. Are you talking about Ethan?" Harper rolls over to look at me.

"Yep. He thinks you're a badass"

"Well he can keep on thinking that." Harper runs her fingers through her hair.

"I think he's a nice guy."

I don't know why but I'm kind of disappointed that Harper doesn't seem interested.

"Nice guys are boring, Ian. Plus if he really is nice, I wouldn't want him to have to deal with me."

"Anyone would be lucky to have to "deal with you"."

"You say that because you love me."

Well, yeah, but it's also true.

I can tell Harper doesn't want to talk anymore about this though so I change the subject and we move on. We spend the rest of the night hanging out in my room and doing homework.


	18. Eighteen

The week goes by in a flash. Ethan harassed me on the daily about helping him "woo Harper". Michael kept making rude passive aggressive comments to everyone, including Jacob. This made Jacob make us practice even harder since he was depressed and pissy about Michael. Everytime I talk to Charles I feel nauseous, Harper insists that means I'm in love (I'm not. I'm too smart to do something as dumb as fall in love right now. It's so not a good time). Oh and I failed my Spanish test. I'm destined to be one of those white people left behind when Spanish speakers begin to dominate American culture.

It's finally Saturday, the day of the party, our first gig as a band. Most of my feelings can be summed up as dread and anxiety. I'm not that nervous about playing because we're only doing covers of 80's pop songs even though no one of our generation is even familiar with the 80s (Ethan tried to argue with Jacob over it but Jacob became super defensive and told us that we had no taste and to leave the music selection up to him.).

What I am nervous about is the feeling that everything is going to hit the fan at once. Jacob and Michael have been steadily bickering more and more over the past week, over what no one is sure. Ethan is convinced that this party will ensure his relationship with Harper (it won't, she'll probably hook up with someone else and he'll blame me). And Charles…well Charles is making me nervous for a lot of reasons. Everyone is planning on getting so drunk they can't walk and honestly none of these people should be drinking.

Currently I'm in Harper's room, on her bed, watching her get ready. She's already started drinking; some girl she goes to school with has an older brother who will buy people alcohol as long as he gets to keep the change. She's drinking straight out of the bottle, a 5th of vodka, grimacing every time she shallows and making a face. I don't know if I'm impressed or scared that she's so brave that she'll drink vodka in our house, with her father only a floor down.

"How should I do my hair?" She asks me, staring into the mirror me sitting behind her. Her hair is kind of on the big side today and she looks a bit like a lion. Humidity, I guess.

"You're seriously asking me?" I run a hand in my own messy hair as an emphasis on how much she should not ask me about hair tips.

Harper sighs and turns her attention back onto herself

"It's just so fucking BIG. And it'll get even bigger at the party, all those sweaty ass people crammed into one place, like what is even the point?" Harper shakes her head, grabbing the bottle of vodka and taking another swig, crossing her eyes and coughing at the taste.

"Why are you even drinking that if it tastes so bad?"

"Oh sweet Ian, no one drinks for the taste of it. We drink so we can lower our inhibitions and have an excuse to act stupid. Duh." Harper picks up a brush, looks at it for a minute and I guess decides it's not worth the pain of trying to get it through her hair.

"You know what; I think I'll just go Lion-chic tonight. It kinda looks like sex hair which turns people on." Harper pats her head and smiles in the mirror.

"Is that the game-plan for you then? Get drunk; find someone to have sex with?" I watch as she puts on a lose tank top that exposes the sides of her bra and shimmies into a tight pair of shorts.

"Basically. Nothing else better to do." Harper shrugs, smiling at me in the mirror as she applies a dark red lipstick.

"What about you? What's your game plan? Gonna hook up with Charles? Or Jackson? Or PLOTTWIST…Jacob?"

I laugh and shake my head

"How about…none of the above?"

"You're boring." Harper is grinning at me as she takes another swig of vodka.

I shrug and smile at her.

"What are you wearing?" Harper asks, looking over at me.

"This." I gesture to my plaid shirt and loose skinny jeans.

"Of course you are." Harper rolls her eyes. She slips on a pair of converse low tops.

"Are you riding with me or with Jacob?"

"Um, you're riding with Jacob too since you've pretty much drank half a bottle of vodka alone, on an empty stomach"

"Don't be such a dad." Harper grabs a purse and slips the vodka in along with her house keys, lipstick and some loose dollar bills.

"Harper…you're not driving."

"Okay, okay, okay! Do you think there's room though?" Harper opens her bedroom door and peeks out. While we don't officially have a curfew, it's always better to not run into my stepfather while leaving. Sometimes when he's in a bad mood he won't let us go. Harper gestures for me to be quiet and waves me out into the hallway. I guess it's all clear.

We don't say anything as we walk down the stairs and out of the house.

I noticed as we're walking to Jacob's house that Harper is kind of zig zag walking. Which probably means she already a little buzzed. Great.

The guys are already outside when we get to Jacob's house, standing by his car.

"Harper needs a ride too." I say by way of greeting. I'm still not very personable I guess.

"Why? She has a car." Michael says. He's wearing a pair of sunglasses, even though its 8:30 at night and the sun has already set. I can tell he's glowering under the sunglasses.

"Because, I've already partaken." Harper says giving a lazy smile as she pulls out her half empty vodka bottle and takes another swig, coughing as she swallows. "Ugh it's so gross but so effective."

"It's cool, Harper. I'm glad you were responsible enough to realize you couldn't drive." Jacob throws a warning look at Michael.

"Honestly, I was going to, but Ian has a stick up his ass."

I hear Michael snort as I roll my eyes.

"You can sit in my lap, Harper, you know, if you want." Ethan of course uses this time to butt in.

"So generous of you, Ethan." Harper deadpans as we all climb into the car "I could just ride in the trunk though."

"Nah all our instruments are in there." Ethan says grinning like a lunatic as Harper carefully sits on him.

"Oh that's right…you guys think you have talent."

"No thinking about it, babe." Charles says, leaning over me to grin at Harper "Be prepared to have your socks knocked off."

"Yeah, you're in for a real treat if you think the 80's was the best decade for music." Ethan rolls his eyes. He's still bitter over losing out in his argument to Jacob.

"Hmmm…I am more of a 90's alt rock girl. Plus I don't even have socks on."

"Because you knew they'd be knocked off." Charles smirks and nods his head in Harper's direction.

"Jacob is planning on drinking so who is going to be our DD for the night?" Michael butts in looking at the four of us in the backseat.

"Ian?" Ethan turns to looks at me. Figures I'd be first choice.

"Ian doesn't even have his license." Harper cuts in for me.

"Right…well I can't drive because I'm part Irish and clearly it's a sin to try and stop me from getting wasted." Ethan turns to look at Charles "Looks like you're taking one for the team, buddy. Not like it's the first time though, right?"

"How do you figure that?" Charles raises an eyebrow to him.

"Because..." Ethan grabs Harpers bottle of vodka from her hands and takes 3 large gulps "I've already partaken."

Charles remains flat-faced as everyone else in the car laughs.

"Ohhhh cheer up, Charles, Ian doesn't drink. You can be sober and boring together." I'm not even looking at Harper but I can feel her smirking. She's already playing matchmaker.

"I guess we'll be sober buddies huh?" Charles smiles and places his hand on my knee. I smile back weakly, hoping Harper doesn't notice and open her big, half-drunk mouth.

For the next couple of minutes the car experience various loud and multiple side conversations until we arrive at our destination.

Jackson's house.

Suddenly I wish I could have a drink or seven, just to calm my nerves. I hope I don't really have to speak to him.

As we're climbing out of the car and pulling our instruments from the trunk, I hear Jacob bossing everyone around: "Meet up here at 2:30 or else we're leaving you and you can walk home."

"Okay fairy godmother, can I get my glass slippers now or what?" Harper deadpans as she walks away, pulling out another full bottle of vodka. She's going to feel terrible tomorrow.

"Bye Harper! See you later!" Ethan yells waving his arms like a madman, looking a little like a pathetic golden retriever.

Harper doesn't look back but raises her arm in acknowledgement.

"I think she likes me, what do you think?" Ethan smiles, turning his head to me.

I shrug my shoulders. Best to not get involved.

"Okay guys, no more drinking until we're done with the set, which is only like 30 minutes. I want us on our A-game."

Ethan and Michael look at each other and shake their heads when Jacob turns towards the house.

We begin to follow as Jacob strides towards the front door, lugging our instruments. I see Jacob isn't actually carrying anything.

Figures

Suddenly, I see Jackson pop out the front door.

Awesome.

He looks like a Hollister model. Perfectly styled light brown hair, a deep tan, white straight teeth. He's tall and in good shape. I remember suddenly why I thought it was a good idea to make out with him in a closet while my stepfather was only rooms away.

"Ian!" Jackson yells, almost stumbling to get to me.

"Oh uh, hey Jackson…" I mumble as Jackson yanks my keyboard case out of my hands

"I'll get that for you. How've you been? You look good…it's so cool you're in a band…I like your hair like that." Jackson says all of this in a rush of words.

I look around and see Ethan smirking at me and moving his eye brows up and down. I roll my eyes at him and stick out my tongue. Ethan grins even harder.

"Thanks, Jackson…I'm okay. How about you?"

I follow Jackson into his house, with the other four behind me.

"Yeah, Jackson, how are you? I'm afraid we haven't met…I'm Michael; I'm with the band. You know, the band you hired?" Michael interjects, slightly pushing me to the side.

"Oh, uh, nice to meet you. You guys can set up in the back yard." Jackson points towards the kitchen area. "Patio is that way!"

Everyone turns towards the kitchen, while I turn back to Jackson.

"Can I get my keyboard back?"

"Oh, uh, sure thing, but can we have a minute?"

Everyone stops walking and looks at me.

Michael looks annoyed, probably because the attention isn't on him. Ethan looks amused. Jacob looks concerned. Charles, well I can't even really look at Charles right now because this is so embarrassing.

"Yeah, okay." I sigh and smile, watching as everyone files out. I can see Charles out of the corner of my eye stop for a minute before moving outside with the rest of the guys.

"So…how are you?" Jackson smiles, leaning in towards me.

"Good, I guess"

"You wanna hang out after you play? I have some killer weed."

"Maybe, I kinda promised Charles we'd hang out since he's the DD and all…" I shrug.

"Well he can hang too…my friend Chrissy has been wanting to hang out with him for a while if you know what I mean. It can be like a group thing." Jackson smirks at me and brushes his perfect hair out of his perfect eyes.

"I mean, I guess so but I don't know if Charles will want to hang out with Chrissy."

"Oh trust me, he will."

This conversation is starting to annoy me.

"Well look, I gotta go set up."

"Alright…cool…I'll find you after." He hands me back my keyboard case and winks at me.

Literally winks at me.

When I get outside Charles walks over to me, taking out a cigarette and lighting it.

"So what did the Ken doll want?"

"He invited me and you to "smoke some killer weed" with his friend Chrissy." I shrug and look at Charles from underneath my bangs.

"He invited me too?" Charles cocks his head, as if he knows I'm looking at him through my bangs.

"Well at first it was me but then I said we were planning on hanging out after we played so…"

Charles grins as he inhales from his cigarette.

"Good man. What'd you say to him?"

"I told him maybe."

"Do you want to?"

"I don't know…apparently his friend Chrissy really wants to hang out with you."

"Jealous?" Charles' grin grows wider.

"No…"

"Uh huh. Well honestly Ian, I'd rather just hang out with you tonight you know? Fuck Jackson and fuck Chrissy too…whoever that is."

"Yeah, okay." I smile as I push my bangs out of my face.


	19. Nineteen

During the set, which people actually seemed to enjoy even if it was obvious that they had never heard half the songs on the playlist, Jackson kept staring at me. Some girl with long dark hair and olive skin was hanging off of him, looking at Charles and whispering into Jackson's ear and then tittering. Chrissy, I'm sure. I'm not that impressed.

It was obvious that most of the people at the party had started drinking a little before we got there, because by the last song a lot of people were starting to get into the wasted category. I saw Harper talking to some guy with a porn-stache in between the 3rd and 4th song, but she disappeared. Luckily it seemed like she wasn't interested in him since he stayed behind. I seriously hope she has better taste than to hook up with a guy with a mustache.

After our last song, Chrissy (I presume) runs up to Charles on the patio, almost knocking Ethan over. Subtle she isn't. Jackson was waving me over, but I kinda wanted to stay and hear what her and Charles were saying. I smile and wave at him before walking over to Charles.

"Hiiiiii, Charlesssss," She drawls out. I don't know if she actually talks like this or if she's just drunk.

"Uh, hi?" Charles, glances at me and smirks, Chrissy giggles.

"I'mmmmm Chrissssyyy." She bites her lip and tucks a strand behind her ear.

I knew it.

"Hey…Chrissy. Nice to meet you." Charles takes out a cigarette and smirks at her. Is he being charming on purpose?

Chrissy giggles again. Of course she does.

"Soooo are you like goingggg to smoke with ussss?" She gestures towards Jackson, who is still standing there, looking at me.

"I can't. Ian and I actually have to babysit Ethan." Charles gestures towards Ethan who is pounding back two beers at once. I don't even know where got those. He takes a puff of a cigarette, before putting his arm around me and ruffling my hair.

Chrissy glances over at Jackson, standing a few feet away. She shrugs her shoulders at him.

"Well, okay then…"

Chrissy walks away, dragging Jackson with her. He looks kind of sad as he waves at me.

"That was…easier than I thought." I say, glancing at Charles.

He leans in closer and winks at me. "Protip: just use babysitting Ethan as an excuse. No one wants to have to take care of a drunk person so they'll hightail it away from you ASAP."

I smile and nod "I see. So are we actually not taking care of Ethan?"

Charles takes another drag of his cigarette and smirks at me "He's a big boy. Besides…him and Harper can take care of each other." He gestures towards Ethan who is leaning next to…Harper? Where did she come from? She has a huge cup of something alcoholic in her hands and she looks like she can barely stand. Ethan is obviously trying to catch up to her level if his chugging everything in sight is any indication.

"That's...trouble."

"Mhmmm…wanna go somewhere more quiet? Get away from the drunks?" Charles is already walking away before I can respond so I just follow him.

We end up in the maid's area, which is basically where the cleaning supplies are kept. Charles plops on the floor and pats the area beside him.

"You're not going to smoke in here are you?" I ask, sitting beside him and gesturing to all the cleaning products which could potentially blow up with the flick of the wrist and landing of ash.

Charles lets out of a soft laugh. "Good point actually. I guess I can handle not smoking for a while. I do it at home all the time."

"Your parents don't know you smoke?" I ask, turning to look at him.

"Fuck no, they'd kill me."

I glance at Charles and see he's watching me. He smiles at me, I smile back.

I'm not naïve. I know Charles is probably going to try and hook up or something. No one goes to a quiet place at a party unless they want to make out.

But I'm still surprised when Charles actually kisses me.

It's a soft, barely there kiss, just a test a kiss, before Charles pulls back slightly and looks at me. "You okay?"

"Uh huh…" I say before leaning in, Charles meets me.

This kiss starts the same way the first one did, light and soft, but slowly becomes more passionate. Charles softly grabs the back of my head, moving me so I'm pressed against the wall. We stay like that, kissing for a while.

I expected Charles to be more…forceful and grabby. I thought he'd try to get under my clothes as fast as he could, that'd he try to pressure me into sex within the first 30 minutes.

This is nicer.

After about 20 minutes of just kissing, Charles moves one of my hands from my shoulder to my hip, slowly rubbing concentric circles and pulling the hem of my shirt slowly up.

He breaks the kiss for a minute to ask "Is it okay if I…" he lightly brushes my bare skin with his fingers as a means to ask if he can touch me there.

"Totally." I nod and smile, feeling kind of dazed.

Charles smiles and leans back in, kissing my jaw and then lightly sucking on my neck. I let out an embarrassing mix of a groan and a laugh.

"Don't uh…don't give me a hickey…my stepfather would kill me."

"I won't." Charles leans in and kisses me again, this time moving his hands underneath my shirt.

I move my hands to Charles hips and lightly rub his sides. Charles pulls packs and laughs. "Sorry…I'm ticklish." He leans back in and kisses me again.

Somehow we end up lying on the floor, with Charles on top of me, making out. Charles has his hands underneath my shirt, lightly rubbing my skin. I can feel Charles' boner against my thigh but surprisingly Charles hasn't tried to do anything about it, yet. I wonder if he can feel mine?

Charles leans in to suck on my neck again, when Ethan barrels through the door.

"Jesus Christ guys! Really?" Ethan throws his hands up as he catches sight of us and tilts to one side. It's obvious he's drunk.

Charles rolls off of me and "adjusts" himself.

"Can I help you, Ethan?" Charles sounds kind of out of breath and like he has a scratchy throat. His hair is a little mussed.

"Uh, you can help me find Harper." Ethan is slightly slurring his words but their understandable.

Charles looks murderous

"Ian and I were in the middle of an important conversation. No one here wants to help you find Harper Swain, who doesn't even like you and is probably getting slammed by some hot douchebag off the lacrosse team at her school."

"Dude! She tried to hook up with me," Ethan throws his arms up and walks in a circle zig-zagging a bit as he does. "But I took the advice of that idiot," Ethan points a shaky finger to me, "and didn't take the bait and then she called me an mind gamer asshole which I'm not totally sure that means but I know it's not good and like ran off."

Charles glances at me and smiles, shaking his head.

"Well what do you want us to do about it?" Charles asks, folding his arms.

"Help me find her, duh…and by the way you're pretty quiet, Ian, for someone who just RUINED my life." Ethan turns to glare at me.

"Hey now! No need for that. You kind of ruined our lives tonight too." Charles grabs my thigh and rubs a soothing circle with his thumb.

"Okay…point taken but to be fair I didn't realize you two wanted to rub dicks with each other."

Charles rolls his eyes at him and stands up, pulling me up as well.

"Well, do you even know what direction she went in? Who was she talking to before? Have you asked around?"

Ethan scrunches his face up for a minute after Charles asks his questions, trying to remember, I guess.

"No, no idea and no." Ethan grins at the two of us.

"Wonderful." Charles wraps an arm around me and moves to the door. "First things first, Ethan…let's go ask around. Focus on the people who aren't hot. They are the gossips and pay attention to this kind of shit."

"Charles you are so shallow, oh my god!" Ethan says, following the two of us out of the maid supply closet.

We make our way back to the main center of the party where we see Jacob and Michael in the middle of a very loud and heated argument.

"Michael, why are you being such an asshole?" Jacob is across the room but I can hear everything he's saying, I glance at Charles and see he's looking at me as well.

"Maybe we should check on the love birds first before looking for Harper, yeah?"

I nod my head in agreement, even though Ethan doesn't look too happy.

We walk towards Michael and Jacob only to see Michael shove Jacob and rush out of the room.

"Whoa..." Charles grips my shoulder as he watches Michael push people out of the way and Jacob covers his face.

"Okay new change of plans, I'm going to go talk to Michael and see what the fuck his problem is, Ian can you try and calm Jacob down? And Ethan…well I guess you can continue to look for Harper." Charles takes his arms away from my shoulder and turns towards me and Ethan.

"What the fuck dude! You told me you'd help." Ethan slightly sways as he complains.

"Ethan…our best friends just got into a huge fight…Jacob is crying…Michael fucking pushed him. Something is wrong!"

"Whatever! You always put everyone else before me." Ethan crosses his arms and pouts, walking off and loudly beginning to ask people if they've seen Harper.

"Is he going to be okay?" I ask nodding my head towards Ethan.

"He's just slightly emotional because he's drunk and he's been rejected by a girl." Charles shrugs smiling at me "Are you okay with splitting up for a while and talking to Jacob?"

"As long as it's not Michael you want me to talk to…"

"I wouldn't do that to you." Charles smiles leaning in and stroking my shoulder.

"Cool." My face feels like it's about to tear into two due to how much I'm smiling.

"Cool." Charles smiles and walks away from me, backwards so we're still facing each other, until he gets to the door where Michael ran out of, he waves as he leaves.

I walk over to Jacob, who is sitting in the corner, body folded into itself, hands covering his face. As I get closer to him, I see he's been crying.

"Uh, Jacob?" I move to sit beside him. This is kind of weird. I've never really been around someone who is crying like this.

"Oh hi, Ian. Having a good time?" Jacob moves to wipe his eyes and smiles at me.

"It's been…interesting." I shrug, probably best to not tell him that I made out with Charles in the maid supply closet when he's devastated over his own boyfriend being a dickhead.

"Cool, cool." Jacob's voice is shaky and I can tell he's trying not to cry again.

"So…" I don't really know where to go from here. Me and Jacob have never really talked one on one before.

"You saw me and Michael get into that argument, huh?" Jacob asks, breaking the ice for me.

"Yeah…" I try to smile at Jacob and end up shrugging. I feel so useless right now.

"He's just been so fucking mean lately. I don't know why he's so mad at me. Or he acts like he's mad at me." Jacob wrings his hands together and looks at me. His bloodshot eyes make them look even bluer.

"He acts like that with everyone?" I shrug and look at Jacob.

"Yeah but not me…I used to be the only person he was genuinely nice to. Do you think he doesn't love me anymore?"

"I…can't answer that, Jacob. I have no idea. But I do know that how Michael is acting has nothing to do with you. There is something going on with him, maybe some major insecurity or something that is causing him to hurt and push people away." I'm not sure if I even believe this but it's important for Jacob to not feel bad about himself in this situation.

"He used to be able to come to me about anything but now it's like he doesn't ever want to talk to me, he just want to have sex or play music." Jacob sounds less croaky, which is a good sign that he's no longer on the brink of tears.

"I have no idea what's going on with Michael but I do know that if someone makes you feel bad about yourself, you probably shouldn't be with them." I look at Jacob and smile "No one, especially you should be at a party crying over their boyfriend."

Jacob looks at me and sits up straighter, wiping his eyes and smiling. "Ian you're such a nice guy…" He put his hand on my knee and then leans in to hug me. Normally I'd try to block it but since he's so upset I'll just let it happen.

Big mistake.

As he's hugging me…an abnormally long amount of time, Jacob turns his face and tries to kiss me. I move out of the way just in time.

"Whoa, Jacob!" I scoot away from him and widen my eyes, rubbing the back of my neck.

"Fuck! I am so sorry Ian but you're so nice and cute and you smelled good." Jacob puts his face back into his hands and I can hear the tears come back into his voice.

"C'mon Jacob…you just want to kiss me right now because you're upset and have had a few too many beers. Tomorrow morning you'd wake up and feel like shit at this memory. Even if you and Michael are going through something, you're still technically together." I try to reason with Jacob, not wanting him to cry again.

Jacob sits back up and smiles "You're right dude, you're totally right. I'm being crazy right now."

"Uh, let's go find Charles and the rest of the crew and get out of here, yeah?" I say, trying to break the awkwardness between us up a bit.

"Good idea, I just want to go home." Jacob stands up and looks around "Where do you think they are?"

Hopefully not the supply closet for the maids…

After about 30 minutes of searching, I'm actually the one who ends up finding Harper. She's lying on a bed in what I think is a guest room of Jackson's house, smoking a blunt with the porn-stache guy I saw from earlier. Her hair looks extra wild.

"Hey Ian, this is Stephen…Stephen this is my brother Ian." Harper's voice sounds low and hollow and she gives a lazy peace sign to me as she talks.

"Hey man, I'm Stephen." Stephen just looks greasy. In addition to the porn-stache he's sporting, he's wearing a Hawaiian shirt with ripped up jeans.

"Ethan's been looking for you…" I ignore Stephen and focus on Harper.

"Fuck Ethan…he actually, like, rejected me." Harper sits up and gets off the bed, walking around the room, until she sees her shoes in the corner. She puts them on…almost falling over a few times.

"Okay well…we'll talk about this later." I grab Harper's arm and lead her out of the bedroom. I can hear Stephen saying goodbye. Hopefully goodbye forever.

Harper is definitely out of it and I have to half carry her as I look around for the others. I can't find them anywhere so I decide to just wait by the car.

Of course, everyone is by the car as I come stumbling out with Harper.

"I almost convinced them to leave you." Michael says huffing and getting into the passenger side of the car.

Charles goes around to where Michael is sitting and opens the door "Nah man, I'm the driver so I decide who sits in the front with me…Ian get in the front."

Michael huffs but doesn't argue with Charles.

"Harper you're going to have to sit in the back." Charles tells her as Ethan, Michael and Jacob climb in the back seat.

I notice Jacob and Michael aren't sitting beside each other.

"She can sit on my lap." Jacob offers

Michael makes a noise of protest but doesn't say anything.

After Charles starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, he grabs my hand, using his other hand to steer. He squeezes my hand. I squeeze back. We both smile at each other.

The rest of the car sits in tense silence.

"Wow…is everyone on their period tonight?" Harper asks, her voice sounding like she has cotton balls stuffed in her mouth "Everyone is like mad."

"Well not everyone can go to a party and fuck a drug dealer and end up feeling like a hundred bucks at the end of the night, Harper." Michael says "Or is that just how much you made from that one fuck?"

Charles glances at me and rolls his eyes.

"Someone's jealous I fucked the mustache guy…Jacob you better get right with your man." Harper laughs lowly.

"See, Ethan, I told you she had no standards. Getting sex from Harper is like getting toilet paper at a public restroom, not that special." I can't even see Michael in the dark of the night but I know he has a glare on his face.

"You would know, wouldn't you?" I heard a shifting in the back seat and turn to see Harper leaning over Ethan's body to look at Michael.

"What does that mean?" Jacob speaks up quietly

"Nothing, Jacob…mind your own business." Michael orders

"I think it is his business though, isn't it, Michael? What do you think Ethan, is it Jacob's business if Michael fucked me a few times because he wasn't completely sure about the gay thing?"

Charles almost slams on breaks at this but continue to drive, glancing in the rearview mirror.

"Whatever, Jacob knows you're a liar, Harper." Michael almost snarls at her.

"If I'm lying then how do I know you have a birth mark that looks like China on your inner thigh?"

Michael doesn't respond.

"How does she know that Michael?" Jacob asks, quiet and on the brink of tears, for the second time tonight.

"You know what, Charles, I'm close enough home that I can walk…just let me out." Michael goes for the door handle but its child locked.

"Dude let me the fuck out. I don't want to talk to you guys." Michael kicks the back of my seat.

Charles slams on breaks and turns around to glare at Michael "Don't kick his seat, he hasn't done anything."

"Hasn't done anything? It's his fault we're even talking about this?"

"How is it Ian's fault that you cheated on Jacob with his sister? You know what Michael, just get out…you're right you only live a block or two away. You could do with the exercise."

Charles undoes the child locks and point at the door. Michael climbs out with a loud "fuck you" to everyone in the car.

Harper climbs out of Jacob's lap, not even looking at him.

She falls asleep the rest of the way home. Everyone pretends to not hear Jacob crying.

When we get to Jacob's house, Charles grabs my wrist as everyone else gets out of the car, except for Harper who is still asleep.

"Wanna hang out tomorrow?"

"Are you sure you still want to hang out with me? My sister did just ruin the relationship of your best friends." I look over at Charles and see he's smiling.

He leans in towards me and whispers "Like I said…you had nothing to do with that."

He kisses me lightly before pulling away.

"So tomorrow?"

"I can't…my stepfather makes us go to church and then we're not allowed out because it's Gods day or something…I don't know." I shrug my shoulders and run my hands through my hair.

"Monday then? Wanna eat lunch in the bleachers? Just me and you?"

"Yeah, okay." I nod.

"Do you need help carrying Harper home or?" Charles asks as he climbs out of the car.

"I can manage."

I open the door to where Harper is sleeping and pick her up in my arms.

Even though I'm carrying 110 pounds of deadweight, I feel lighter than I ever have…even with all that's happened tonight. It feels a lot like hope.


	20. Twenty

"So can you explain to me what happened with you and Michael?" I ask as Harper groans.

I crawled into Harper's bed earlier this morning to wait for her to wake up, only realizing a few minutes ago that Harper was actually awake and just faking being asleep.

"Why does it matter?"

"Well mainly because I'm interested, but it also matters because you lied to me about it, you broke up a relationship, you may have broken up the band, and because Michael is an asshole and I thought you'd be more discernable than that." I count off on my hands as I name the various reasons why Harper sleeping with Michael is a big deal.

Harper rolls over to look at me, sweeping her thick hair out of her face. Her eyeliner and mascara from the night before are slightly smeared and she has bags under her eyes. She looks tired.

"First of all I did not "break up a relationship", Michael did all of that on his own. I don't owe Jacob Donovan anything; I didn't promise him anything; all of that is on Michael. Second of all I did not break up the band, again that's on Michael. He shouldn't cheat on his boyfriend when they're in a band together. Not my problem. And the band isn't even going to break up. Jacob is too invested to let something like a break up destroy his so called music career. And third of all I don't know why you think I wouldn't sleep with Michael, I sleep with literally everyone else, I clearly don't care I'm a slut, everyone knows it." Harper looks like she's trying to be angry but she looks sad more than anything else.

"Well could you tell me how it happened? I mean it's out now might as well tell the full story." I try to give her an encouraging smile. She glares at me.

"It was at Sophia House's birthday party a few months ago. Jacob wasn't there because he was sick or something. Michael seemed depressed, I figured it was because Jacob was missing. He was drinking a lot; he comes up to me as the party is dying down and asks if he could talk to me. Which was weird because we like literally never talked minus a hi and bye every now and then." Harper sits up at this point and pulls her hair into a loose bun, continuing on with the story as she pulls it up. "We go into Sophia's guest house, behind the pool and he kisses me. I was like "What about Jacob?" and he was like "What about him?" and so I kissed him back and then he went down on me and that is basically how it started like we didn't even have sex the first time he just gave me head, didn't even want any kind of reciprocity." Harper looks at me and shrugs.

"Did you guys ever talk about Jacob?"

"Michael basically told me he wasn't even sure if he was full-on gay or if he was bisexual or something else and that he felt trapped with Jacob because Jacob was so sure of them as a couple and of his own sexuality and like Michael couldn't even say anything to Jacob about it because Jacob would just shut him down and tell him he was being ridiculous because of course he was gay."

"Honestly that sounds like Jacob. He is kind of pushy sometimes and won't listen."

"What did he do after I told everyone me and Michael had sex?" Harper finally looks like she feels guilty.

"Nothing really, he cried…I honestly don't know if he was surprised or not about this whole thing. He was upset earlier over about him and Michael. They've been having a lot of arguments, I guess. They bicker a lot."

"Maybe they should break up."

"They do seem unhappy together, Jacob even tried to kiss me last night." I feel my face get hot as I reveal this to Harper.

Harper eyebrows shoot to her hairline.

"Really? What did you do?"

"Told him he was upset about Michael and that I wasn't interested." I shrug. I haven't told Harper about me and Charles kissing yet.

"You should have kissed him! Made his life and your life more interesting. Plus it would have helped with the blow of Michael cheating on him." Harper grins and waggles her eyebrows.

"I don't even like Jacob, plus interesting isn't always a good thing. Is that why you have sex with people, because you think it makes life more interesting?"

"Doesn't it though? Everyone always talks about it. Why? Because it's interesting. Plus having sex with these guys lets me see what they're like when they lose control. Makes me feel powerful." Harper flexes her bicep as she speaks, giving a half smile.

"Do you like people talking about you?" I knew people did but I never knew if Harper cared or not.

"I don't care. They're all assholes who I'll never see again once we graduate anyway." Harper shrugs and smiles at me "At least I'm interesting, I guess."

"You're interesting regardless if you have sex with those guys or not."

"I know." Harper looks at me and grins

There is a short silence before I interrupt it "I made out with Charles last night." Just saying those words makes me smile.

"Oh yeah? How was that?" Harper, for once isn't teasing me, which I'm thankful for.

"Nice. Really nice. I think I really like him."

"Does he like you though? You know he's a man whore, right?"

My stomach feels heavy as I'm reminded of Charles' colorful past. He has almost as many rumors about him as Harper does.

"I mean I think so, he didn't he try to have sex with me or anything last night." I'm looking at my hands as I talk.

"That's…weird. I mean probably good, I guess. I've never really liked anyone so I don't know what I'd do if I did. Maybe I wouldn't have sex with them right away? Seems like something romantic people do, I guess." Harper is trying to be encouraging I know but she's just making me more nervous about the situation.

Maybe Charles didn't try to have sex with me because he thought I was boring and didn't want to bother. Or maybe he isn't attracted to me and just made out with me to pass the time or something.

"He asked me to hang out today and when I said no he asked if we could eat lunch together on Monday." I offer to Harper

"Well I guess that's probably a good sign. I think he likes you, why wouldn't he?"

So many different reasons. I don't bother vocalizing them.

"Speaking of someone liking someone…what happened with you and Ethan? You were pretty pissed off last night." I grin as Harper lets out a loud sigh and rolls her eyes.

"I asked him if he wanted to have sex with me because I know he likes me and everything and was trying to be nice and he was like "I think we should just hang out and get to know one another" like what is that all about?" Harper scratches her head as she speaks "It was disturbing."

"Well he does like you so maybe he wanted to you know…wait. Until you two are official."

"Well…that is never going to happen. I don't do commitment. Everyone is temporary."

Harper decides she's done talking as she burrows her head and body back under her blankets. I sit beside her in bed for a while before deciding to go to my room and do homework.

For most of the day, I just stay in my room. My mom left for the weekend to go to some kind of resort with one of her friends for the weekend. She obviously needed to get away from all the stress and chaos in her life. Harper is being moody today and just sleeping the day away. I think she feel guiltier about the Michael/Jacob issue than she wants to admit.

With the house so quiet, it's always a good idea to try and avoid leaving my room. Less of a chance of running into my stepfather.

As I'm correcting my (failed) Spanish exam, the door to my bedroom swings open. I look up, expecting to see Harper.

My stomach drops as my stepfather comes into the room.

I quickly flip my Spanish exam over. If he sees I failed, that will just give him a reason to start something.

He closes the door behind him and shuts off the overhead light, leaving the room to be illuminated by the natural lighting outside.

I don't speak or look at him. That usually makes him angrier. I don't even know if he's in a bad mood though.

He moves to sit on my bed.

"Come here." He pats the space beside him. I slowly get up and walk towards the bed, feeling as if I'm walking to towards the gallows.

I sit down and stare at my knees, picking at a hole in my jeans at the knee. He touches my thigh. I try not to jump.

"So you and Harper went out together last night, huh?" His fingers are moving towards my inner thigh, tracing a light pattern of their own making. It takes all my willpower not to brush him off.

"Yes sir," I nod and continue to avoid his face.

He moves one of his hands from my thigh to the back of my neck, almost in the exact spot where hours earlier Charles kissed.

He dips the hand on my neck into the collar of my shirt, smoothing his fingers over my chest, touching one of my nipples. I shift slightly and the hand on my thigh squeeze it in warning. I stay still.

"And were you a good boy?" The hand on my thigh moves towards my groin, squeezing it.

I feel like I can't breathe.

I nod my head.

"Answer me. Were you a good boy? You didn't let anyone touch you?"

I swallow thickly, trying to control my breathing and stop myself from moving.

"No sir, no one touched me." I shake my head emphatically.

"That's good. You know you're mine." He leans in and smells my hair as he continues to touch me.

"Yes, sir." I know what he wants to hear.

"You gave me your virginity after all, that means you're mine forever." He kisses the side of my face. I close my eyes and wish it was over.

"Give your dad a kiss." He grabs my chin and forces me to look in his direction. He moves until his mouth is on mine. I try to kiss him back. If I don't, it'll be so much worse.

He leans back and smiles.

"Good boy." He pats my hair and leans away from me, finally taking his hands off my body.

He stands up, adjusting himself as he does so.

"How about you and Harper order pizza tonight for dinner, huh? With your mom gone, I'm going to head out with the guys for beer and burgers." He smiles as he continues on, acting like a normal stepfather and not the creep he is.

I nod my head like and look down.

"Sounds good sir, thank you."

"I'll leave some cash on the kitchen counter."

He walks out of the room.

I go to the bathroom to throw up.

I don't know why I'm even upset; it's not as if he really did anything. He just touched me for a little bit. It could have been worse. A lot worse. And it has been worse.

Harper has it ten times worse than me and I still act like a baby.

I wonder what Charles would think if he knew about this.

I know what my stepfather would think, or worse…what he would do. I need to make sure he never, ever finds out about me and Charles.


	21. Twenty-one

Monday morning. I have my forehead pressed against my desk in English class. I feel exhausted and run down. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night. I was scared my stepfather was going to come back after his "guy's night" and finish what he started. Thank god it didn't happen.

Neither me nor Harper ordered any pizza. I think Harper ended up swiping it for extra cash. She'll probably use it to buy weed or alcohol. Maybe even condoms. I don't even know if she uses condoms. I hope she does.

As I'm laying my head down, hoping to drift off and get a few minutes of sleep, I feel someone lightly tracing my side. I bolt up and away as soon as I feel it, sensitive from the day before.

I look up to see Ethan, a shocked expression on his face, his hands in the air as if he surrenders.

"Don't touch me…" I feel the tight frown on my face and cross my arms over my chest. "You always touch me and I don't like it."

Ethan frowns; I guess he's surprised that I finally said something.

"I'm sorry dude, why didn't you say something sooner?"

I shrug and look down, tracing patterns into the desk with my finger.

Out of the peripheral of my eye I see Ethan frown deeper, a look of concern on his face.

"You okay? You seem upset…"

"I'm just tired."

"You sure? You know you can tell me stuff, right? Like I know I act like a doofus but I can keep my mouth shut and stuff when I need to." Ethan leans in closer to me, but actually stops before he gets too close. I guess he's being mindful after I asked him to keep his distance.

"Yeah…thanks."

"This doesn't have to do with Charles, does it? Because if he upset you, I can and will totally kick his ass. I'm his best friend…I know all his physical weaknesses."

I sigh and try to smile. "No, I told you I'm tired."

"I was gonna harass you about Harper, but I guess I'll back off until you feel better." Ethan leans back, locking his hand together and putting them over his head.

I roll my eyes. Of course this is about Harper.

"What about Harper?"

"What not about Harper? Is the bigger question."

I turn towards Ethan and raise an eyebrow, he sighs.

"Okay, did Harper talk about me at all?"

"Yeah she said you shouldn't waste your time because she doesn't do commitment and she'll never be your girlfriend." Usually I would be nicer about it but I'm feeling like crap so I guess I'm taking everyone else down with me.

"Whoa. Harsh bro." Ethan puts his hand over his chest and actually looks pretty stricken.

I shrug.

"Besides…do you even want to date a girl that possible broke up your two best friend's relationship and your band?"

"Harper did nothing wrong, that's all on Michael being a douchebag plus her past isn't her present and if she's with me she's not with him so I'd get over it anyway. And no one is breaking up the band, get real Ian."

"You don't think Harper is at fault in some way? She could have turned down Michael when he hit her up the first time. It takes two to fuck." For some reason, Harper sleeping with Michael really pisses me off. Maybe because I hate Michael, maybe because she knew he was in a relationship, maybe because she didn't tell me. I don't know.

"Dude…language." Ethan smirks at me. I stick out my tongue and he crosses his eyes in response. Idiot. "But anyway, no, I don't. She didn't make a commitment to anyone, it's all on Michael."

"Are you mad at Michael?"

There is a long pause and I can see Ethan is actually thinking about it.

"I'm pissed that he hurt Jacob, but if Jacob wasn't my friend, I don't know if I'd be mad at him. I know he did a shitty thing but it's been obvious for a while that he's unhappy and not just with Jacob, but with himself." Ethan scratches his head and looks at me as he shrugs "I don't know, I just want Michael to be like how he used to be. Maybe he needed to sleep with someone else or break up with Jacob to get there?"

"You're forgiving. I think he's an asshole."

Ethan laughs "Well, he is, but he's also my friend so…you know how it is."

I don't really know how it is because Harper has been my only friend for years and I'm pretty disappointed in her actions to be honest. Maybe I'm a judgmental dick.

We sit in silence for a few minutes before Ethan coughs. At first I ignore him but he does it a few times in a row. I realize after the fourth cough he's trying to get my attention. Weirdo.

I look up and give him a look, Ethan leans forward towards me again.

"So uh Charles told me you two may be eating lunch together?"

I nod my head.

"Well normally I'd never ask but seeing as how Michael and Jacob hate each other at the moment and you and Charles are my only friends besides those two would you mind if I sat with you guys?"

Ethan is giving me bug eyes which I think he thinks are his puppy dog eyes. I roll my eyes and shrug. Honestly if I was Ethan I'd probably try to crash our "lunch date" too, considering his other options are Michael and Jacob.

"Really? You don't mind?" Ethan asks, grin breaking out "I asked Charles earlier and he told me to fuck off. Thank god one of you is the nice one!"

"You don't think Charles will mind do you?" I ask, scratching my head. I don't want to fuck up before we even started anything.

"Nah, just look at him with your doe eyes and I'm sure he'll get over it. He'll be pissed at me though for cock blocking but whatever, you two can make out some other time."

For some reason, when I imagined hanging out with Charles I didn't actually think about what we'd be doing. I'm not really in the mood for making out, not after what happened yesterday. I'm actually kind of relieved that Ethan is going to be a gnat in our ears.

Second and third period roll through. Michael looks at me and glares when he enters second period. I don't even bother giving him a response back.

Third period is interesting in that all five of us have that class together. I sit beside Charles. We're both sitting across from Michael and Jacob.

We don't have assigned seating in this class. They could sit wherever they wanted and they choose to sit next to each other but loudly and passive aggressively ignore one another.

Charles snorts and leans in "This may be better than the movies," as he gestures towards Michael and Jacob. I roll my eyes.

"Do you think they'll get back together?"

Charles frowns and cocks his head to the side.

"I don't even know if they're even officially broken up, honestly. Jacob picked Michael up today, he made sure to let us know that we still have practice, I don't know what their end game is going to be."

"He picked him up?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Yeah…he could have picked you up and you could have shared the awkward silence with me and we could have laughed about it later but nooooo, you have to ride your bike and come into the school parking lot looking like Adonis on wheels."

I feel my face heating up. I hate blushing.

"Well, every moment with me is awkward silence." I look down and shrug my shoulders.

"You're the opposite of awkward." Charles put his hand on my knee. I automatically stiffen, remembering yesterday in my room with my stepfather. Charles immediately removes his hand.

"Sorry. You okay?"

I force a smile and say "Sorry…my knee hurts. I fell off my bike."

"Well I'll keep my hands to myself anyway." Charles smiles, my heart pounds, but he doesn't seem mad.

The rest of the class passes by quickly, with the class practicing our different instruments for the end of year recital. We sound terrible. There is no order or cohesion in our sound. The school should hire Jacob to teach the class, honestly. He was bossing around everyone within earshot of his seat anyway.

After third period, Ethan skips over to me and Charles. He chose to sit beside Michael whose shoulders he kept rubbing in encouragement every time Jacob would roll his eyes in their direction.

"Ready for lunch?"

Charles rolls his eyes at Ethan. "Ethan, what did I tell you earlier?"

"Ian said I could sit with you guys!" Ethan points at me, "You didn't tell him?"

I shrug my shoulders.

Charles wraps an arm around my shoulders, slightly pushing me forward and away from Ethan.

"I can't believe you took advantage of Ian's genuine sweetness just so you didn't have to sit with Michael or Jacob…or both of them while they ignore each other." I can feel Charles shake his head.

"Hey! I sat with them in third period. Maybe you should leave me and Ian and you can go sit with them. You know…take one for the team." Ethan tries to put his arm around the other side of my shoulders but Charles pops him.

"Just…sit at the top of the bleachers, away from us and keep quiet."

"Geeze, some friend you are. Maybe I wanted to talk about my day so far? Maybe I wanted to hear about you and Ian's day? Maybe I had something to share with you two?" Ethan chatters in my ear as we go towards the football field.

"Ethan, when I said keep quiet, I meant for you to keep quiet now."

"Geeze! Rude much?" I hear Ethan make a pouting noise, but he does, thankfully, shut up.

When we get to the bleachers, Ethan drops his book bag at our feet, takes out his lunch and runs up the bleachers, to the very top.

"That's actually kind of impressive since I don't think he actually works out." I say, as I sit on a bottom bleacher.

"I could do that." Charles nods at Ethan as he sits down.

"With your smoking? Doubtful." I grin as Charles quirks an eyebrow at me.

"You don't think I'm in shape?" Charles asks, leaning back and slightly pulling up his shirt, exposing his stomach "I'm in great shape!"

Ethan lets out of whoop at the top of the bleachers at the sight of Charles stomach. Charles gives Ethan the finger and rolls his shirt back down.

"Very nice." I can feel my face heating up and look at Ethan at the top of the bleachers. He's making obscene gestures. I look away.

"I bet yours is nicer." Charles is smirking and leaning towards me. "C'mon let's see it."

"I don't think Ethan could handle it." I'm playing with the fray of the sleeves of my shirt.

"Fair enough…I'm not sure I could either, to be honest."

I smile as me and Charles finally start taking out our lunches. I packed an avocado wrap today.

"Oh I made you something." Charles says, as he rummages through his giant lunch-box.

"Me?"

"No actually I was talking to Ethan but you'll do, I guess." Charles grins as he takes out a sandwich box. "Yes you!"

"What is it?" I take the sandwich box. Why would Charles makes me a sandwich? Is this one of those weird internet meme things I don't get?

I look down as I open the sandwich box and see a bunch of cut up fruit with dip in the middle.

"I made you some fruit dip last night. It's mango and red pepper. Sounds weird but my mom swears by it."

"You made me fruit dip?" There is tightness in my chest as I grip the sandwich box.

"If you think its lame, blame my mom. She's the one that suggested it." Charles says this in a rush. "I told her my new friend was a vegetarian and I wanted to do something nice for them."

"It's not lame…it's really, really sweet."

"Well she said it's supposed to be sweet and spicy."

I roll my eyes at the joke.

I dip a strawberry in the dip and take a bite. Delicious.

"You told your mom about me?" I glance towards Charles.

"Don't worry…I know your stepdad is kinda crazy about the gay thing. I didn't use your name or anything."

My stomach drops at the mention of my stepfather but I force myself to smile "Do your parents know about you?"

"My mom probably does…I mean I cut up fruit and made dip for a dude. My dad has no idea but I don't think he'd care."

"That's good."

"What about your parents? I mean I know your mom and stepdad aren't fans but what about your dad?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." I shrug and look at Charles, cocking my head to the side "I don't even really remember my dad. He left my mom a long time ago."

"Shit. I'm sorry." And I can tell Charles really is sorry.

"It's cool. Can't miss what you don't remember, yeah?"

We sit in silence for a minute.

"So...when did you know you were gay?" Charles asks, knocking his knee into mine

I huff out a laugh "Okay this is embarrassing but when I was twelve, Harper had a friend stay the night…I don't even remember who it was, but she cornered me in my room and made my cup one of her boobs. I didn't feel anything besides weirded out. I think that was my first sign. What about you…when did you realize you liked boys?"

Charles grins at my story and shakes his head "There was this kid in my 7th grade class, right?" He glances up at me as he tells the story, waiting for my reaction. I nod. "I was always looking at him, he always seemed so sad, you know? He was so quiet. But it didn't matter where I was sitting or where I was in the room, I'd always find him. I didn't even think about it consciously, I just gravitated towards him."

Charles pauses, biting into his sandwich and chewing as he continues on.

"Anyway…one day we have to present some project to the class and I know this kid hates talking in public…like hates it. So he stands up to present, his eyes are all big, he's shaking, can barely breathe. Throws up everywhere. People are screaming, running away. But you know what I wanna do? I wanna wipe the vomit off his lips and give him my coat. So I guess I knew then because you have to have a crush on someone to not be disgusted by their vomit."

My heart is racing as he finishes the story, he's smiling up at Ethan and I'm staring at him.

"Charles?"

"Yeah?"

"That was me…"

"I know."

"But you didn't know I even went to this school before you guys asked me to join the band."

Charles turns and looks at me, grinning. "No, Jacob didn't know you went to this school. I just wanted to see what you'd do. I always liked watching you."

"I kinda wanna throw up right now."

Charles laughs "Good…I make you nervous".

Yeah, he does.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be my last update until July because I am leaving the country for a few weeks for vacation and my access to computers/the internet is limited at best. I am going to try and update one last time before leaving but my schedule is jam packed for the next few days (leaving work for a few weeks is a terrible idea omg alllllll the work you have to do before leaving work lol) so I don't know how much time I'll have! So if I don't update know its not abandoned.


	22. Twenty-Two

I'm sitting stiffly across from Harper in the dining room eating dinner and trying not to daydream about Charles. For some reason, I always feel like my stepfather can read my thoughts and I don't want him knowing about this.

But, inevitably I find myself drifting off and thinking about how Charles smiled at me when he was telling the story of 7th grade me throwing up in class (as a side note, I didn't actually throw up because I was nervous about public speaking...I actually had a virus and was sick).

After lunch, I spent the rest of school kind of in a hazy blur where all I could think about was Charles and his perfect hair and teeth and skin and how nice he is and how funny he is and how he scares me but in a good way not like how my stepfather scares me.

The Spanish teacher called on me five separate times for spacing out in class, which isn't good at all considering I'm definitely failing her class. But I couldn't help it; all I could think about was Charles.

Too bad he doesn't speak Spanish.

"What's up with that faggy smile on your face?" My thoughts are cut off by the gruff voice of my stepfather. He's cutting into his bloody, rare meat and scowling at my mother as if she has any idea what's going on in my life, ever. She rolls her eyes and shrugs.

After a beat of silence he turns to me and shoves a piece of meat in his mouth

"Well?" I can see blood dripping from the meat, staining his teeth. There's a metaphor in that somewhere, I think.

"Just had a good day, I guess." I look down at the grilled vegetables on my plate and avoid his eyes.

"Well stop smiling, you look like a fag." I can hear him cutting into another piece of meat while he's speaking "Real men don't smile. I bet none of those guys that are in that band with you sit around smiling at their vegetables, do they? I bet none of them actually even eat vegetable because they're not wrist-flickers who can't eat meat because of a hunting trip."

I think of how often Ethan laughs and grins, how easy it is for him to be happy, of Charles making me fruit dip because I'm a vegetarian and he wanted to do something nice for me, of Jacob and Michael dating each other. My stepfather would definitely not approve.

I say nothing.

"Ask your mother, she's probably never even seen me smile and she's the love of my life." I glance over at my mother and even she's quirking her eyebrows at that.

My mother and stepfather did not marry for love, I don't think. If they did, it's long run out.

"Mmm yes, you never smile. You're such a man's man." My mother is swishing her wine glass around and smirking. It almost feels like she's mocking him but I don't think she would do that.

"Speaking of your band, I have a proposition for you, Ian." I look up as my stepfather stands up and walks towards the liquor cabinet. He pours himself something dark, scotch probably.

"Yes sir?" I raise my eyebrows.

"Well you know Trista's benefit is coming up soon." I raise my eyebrows and nod as my stepfather takes a long pull from his glass.

Trista is Harper's mother, my stepfather's first wife. She killed herself a few weeks after Harper started preschool. My stepfather started a charity in her name the year after she died that donates to local mental health clinics to provide services to women in need, so that "another child doesn't lose their mother to the beast that is depression" (this is a direct quote made by my stepfather one year at the benefit).

"Stop looking like a fish." My stepfather snaps as he pours himself some more scotch while rolling his eyes at me.

I didn't even know my mouth was open. I close it shut.

"Good boy. Anyway, as you know Trista's benefit is coming up and Mrs. Haas, one of the charity's stakeholders suggested we get live music this year, to make it a little more "upbeat" and it came to me that I should get you and your band to play."

"Um. Okay." I scratch my head and glance over at Harper, whose studiously looking at her plate, avoiding my eyes.

One thing Harper hates more in the world, besides her father, is discussion and attention paid to her mother. Harper especially despises the benefit put on every year to honor her.

I used to stay up at night thinking about how different my life would be if Trista Swain didn't swallow 3 pill bottles followed by champagne in a hot bath.

My mother would have never married my stepfather. She probably wouldn't have become a functioning alcoholic. She definitely would have never gotten botox.

I wouldn't be an epileptic afraid of my own shadow.

But, I also would have never known Harper. I think my life would have had a hole in it without Harper.

"So you'll play?" He poses this as a question but I don't really have a choice. No one has ever said to him in his life, probably.

"Yes sir, I mean I'll have to talk to the band but I know they'll jump at the chance to play at such a big event."

Truthfully, this event is probably just what Jacob needs. He snapped at all of us, minus Michael (who he ignored to the point where it was actually physically painful) all throughout practice, critiquing our every move and telling us that we'll never get another gig with our shit playing.

Charles ended up throwing a sandwich at his head and walking out. Ethan walked out because he was offended at Charles wasting a precious sandwich. After that I left because I didn't want to be alone with Jacob and Michael who were shooting daggers at each other.

The distraction of the benefit will probably help with practice.

Or Jacob will end up getting kicked out of his band for being a tyrant.

"Of course. Talk with them. Let me know how much money you want for the gig, but I have to warn you, I'm not going over four hundred dollars."

"We can play for free, sir."

My stepfather sighs loudly and walks back to his sit. I guess he's done with the scotch, for now.

"Ian, if someone is offering you money you never turn it down. That's the difference between successful men and losers asking for spare change outside the gas station."

Well technically they're not turning down any money...

I nod my head in understanding.

"Just know, though" My stepfather turns to me and grabs my left wrist, squeezing painfully and digging his fingernails into my flesh "if any of you screw up and embarrass me...I'll beat you so hard people will think  _you_  attempted suicide by jumping out a six floor window."

He released my wrist and I pull it to my chest, rubbing the reddened skin.

"I understand."

"I'm sure you do." He leans back and gestures towards me and Harper "you two look like you're done with dinner; leave the adults so we can have a real conversation."

We don't have to be told twice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was hella short, especially considering how long I've been gone. But it stopped at the appropriate place that I needed the scene to end. As always...reviews are appreciated. Thank you to everyone who gave me kudos!


	23. Twenty-Three

“I cannot believe he is actually making you perform at that stupid ass benefit that literally no one cares about.” Harper is standing in front of her vanity, roughly combing her hair, yanking it every time a curl gets knotted. I’m almost afraid she’s going to end up ripping some of it out.

Harper is pretty but no one can really pull off a bald spot.

“Well I wouldn’t say _no_ one cares about it, I mean it always has a good turn out and rakes in the cash.” I pause to look up and see Harper pursing her lips in the mirror and yanking even harder on her hair. Oops.

 “But yeah…you’re right it’s a crap event and will probably ruin all our lives.”

“I have no doubt. I mean your first big gig is for some hag who offed herself because she couldn’t handle being so rich and skinny. That’s not a good sign.” Harper stops brushing her hair (I’m sure her scalp thanks her) and turns to me, raising her eyebrows.

“I’m not necessarily sure your mother killed herself because she was too rich or skinny…” I lay back on Harper’s bed and look up at her ceiling. It’s totally smooth. My mom thinks popcorn ceilings are tacky and for poor people. Which is a shame because we had a popcorn ceiling in our old apartment before my mom became a part of “Dr. and Mrs. Swain”. That apartment felt more like home than this huge cold house ever will.

“Trista is no more my mother than Dr. Swain is my father. An egg and sperm donor and quite frankly I don’t even want to claim their genetics. I mean one-half of me is a mentally ill anorexic and the other half is an abusive, controlling piece of shit.” Harper flops next to me on the bed and rolls over to look at me.

“Speaking of being a piece of shit…what did the guys say about me and Michael at school today?”

“I’m surprised you care enough to even ask.” I roll over to my side to face her and smile.

“I don’t, but I am interested in how well Michael depicted me as the home-wrecking whore.”

“I don’t think he did actually. No one seemed to really blame you besides you sleeping with him. Like they know he’s mostly to blame, even though you should have known better.”

Harper looks down and starts picking at her right thumbnail.

“Is that what you think too, that I should have known better?”

I roll back on to my back and look up at the smooth ceiling again.

After a beat of silence I answer, “Yeah, kinda.”

“Well obviously I’ve never used the word no before in my life, so I don’t know why you’d think that.” Harper’s tone sounds hard, angry.

“Because you’re better than that.”

“Says who?” Harper rips almost half her thumbnail off while picking at it. She doesn’t even wince, just brings her thumb to her mouth to suck up the blood.

“Me.”

“Well, I’m not. Obviously.” Her voice is kind of muffled due to her thumb still being in her mouth. “Or I wouldn’t have fucked him.”

I glance over at Harper; her thumb is still in her mouth. She no longer looks angry, just more sad than anything.

I reach over and pat her hairline softly, and Harper breaths a laugh out of her nose

“Who pats people’s hairline, Ian? You’re so weird.”

I laugh and shrug “I know.”

“You’re the good one, Ian. I hope no one ever changes that.” Harper reaches over and bops me on the nose. I pretend to try and bite her finger. She bops me again.

“I won’t.”

“Promise?”

“You’re the weird one now, Harper. But I promise.”

“Good.”

We lay there for a few minutes staring at each other.

“So Charles told me the story of how he knew he liked boys today.”

Harper quirks her eyebrow up at me.

“He apparently had a crush on some weirdo in the 7th grade.”

“Oh so he has a type then. That’s good. For you anyway.” Harper doesn’t seem that interested in the story but I don’t think she’s caught on yet.

“Yeah apparently this kid like never talked and then one day threw up in class and that’s when Charles knew he must really be gay because he wasn’t even disgusted.”

“Didn’t that happen to you, too?” Harper lets out a small laugh “Geeze 7th grade was a shithole for shy weird kids”

“Harper! It was me!” I lightly hit her on her shoulder and laugh.

“Are you for serious? I thought you told me that they didn’t even know you went to their school until they decided that you were a good singer.”

“Charles said that Jacob didn’t know but that he knew and that he wanted to see how I’d react to Jacob not knowing who I was.”

“So, he’s a sociopath?”

“Harper!”

“What? I’m just saying…who doesn’t tell their friend beforehand that they’re about to make an ass out of themselves by acting like a kid they’ve gone to school with for years was a new student?”

“I never noticed how judgmental you are.”

Harper rolls her eyes and smirks at me.

“So what…Charles has been holding this torch for 3 years?”

“I don’t think so. I mean people don’t really hook up with people if they’re mooning over someone else, right?”

“Don’t ask me, I’ve never had a crush on anyone. Feelings are for the weak.”

“You’ve had crushes on people before.”

“No, I haven’t. I literally do not understand when people speak of “butterflies” and “warm and fuzzy feelings” it sounds awful.”

“What about the people you’ve had sex with?”

“Sex for me is like a handshake honestly. Kind of impersonal and something I do to greet people and welcome them into the fold.” Harper tilts her head at me and shrugs.

“You use condoms right?”

Harper rolls her eyes and nods “Obviously.”

“Speaking of sex, when do you think you’re going to have sex with Charles?” Harper turns to look at me with raised eyebrows.

My stomach drops a bit. I honestly hadn’t thought that far ahead. Mostly when I think about Charles, I think about holding his hand and making out. Maybe eating ice cream together or going on a picnic.

I shrug and roll onto my back, closing my eyes and putting my right arm over it.

“Not for a while, probably.”

“Really?” Harper sounds unconvinced.

“I mean we haven’t even gone on a date yet. We should probably at least do that first, right? And maybe go one a few more after, just to be sure.”

“I don’t know. Charles has a lot of experience; he may want to have sex with you like super-fast just to make sure you’re good at it.”

I lift my arm off my face and open my eyes to look at Harper “What do you mean “good at it”? I’ve never really had sex. What if I’m not good at it?” This conversation is starting to make me nervous. With my stepfather all I had to do was not fight back and not cry and he was satisfied but Charles probably wants like porn star moves or something.

“Oh I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Harper waves off the question.

“What if I’m not?”

“Well…you’ll probably get better?” Harper shrugs and tries to smile encouragingly.

“Do you think Charles will care if I’m bad?”

“I mean probably a little, but I’m sure he’ll try to help you get better. Maybe he should be on top the first few times.”

I’m starting to feel sick and panicky. I swallow hard and nod.

“Just do what I do and lie back and think of something nice. Like…leave your body for a while. Float up and look down on yourself, you know?”

I don’t think that sounds right but don’t bother voicing my thoughts on that. I just nod.

“Do you think Charles like wants to date me or just, like, wants to have sex with me?”

Harper stares at me for a minute and cocks her head to the side, thinking.

“I mean, I think he actually likes you and wants to date you, because normally he would have moved on by now if he just wanted sex from you.  I’ve never seen him actually put any effort into another person before and it seems like he’s really trying with you.”

“He hasn’t asked me on a date yet, besides like going to lunch together.”

“Do people actually date still?”

I shrug and scratch my head. “They do on TV.”

Harper snorts and rolls her eyes “Do not base your expectations on life around Teen Wolf.”

“You mean to tell me I’m _not_ going to get bitten by the comatose uncle of some guy with beautiful eyes and a chiseled jawline and become a werewolf?” I grab my chest in fake horror.

“About as likely as me being the doppelganger of the love of two vampire brothers’ lives”

“That sucks.”

Harper sighs loudly and nods. “It does.”

“So should I wait for Charles to ask me out or should I ask him out?”

“Ian, I am literally the worse person to ask advice from. Ethan or Jacob or even MICHAEL would be a better option than me.”

“I don’t think Jacob or Michael knows about me and Charles yet.”

Harper snorts “Well yeah, probably not…considering Jacob kissed you and all just a few days ago.”

“Yeah. That’s going to be awkward when he finds out.” I rub my hands through my hair, not bothering to push it back in place.

“Please record that conversation for me.”

I glare at her.

“So I guess Ethan is your only option.”

“I think he may be a worse option than you, Harper.”

“Well you said he has a crush on me. So at least he kinda understands pining and shit after people.”

I don’t bother answering her.

I refrain from asking her for any more advice concerning Charles. Harper’s right, she isn’t very good at giving advice about relationships.

Plus she only ended up making me feel more nervous and me and Charles. I wasn’t even thinking about sex and now that’s all I can think about.

I guess Ethan really is my only option for advice.

So. I’m screwed.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Shanblue for editing! Thanks to everyone who left kudos/comments! I really appreciate them.


	24. Chapter Twenty-Four

I decided to talk to Jacob about the gig during music class, which meant I had to sit between him and Michael. Fantastic.

Jacob looked confused when I sat down, probably because all of us have been trying to avoid the line of fire as much as possible.

I can see Michael shift away from me, glaring with his arms crossed over his chest. Whatever.

"Did Charles send you to talk to me? Because I still maintain what I said at practice and him throwing that sandwich was very unprofessional and won't be tolerated." Jacob has his chin jutted out and he looks like a toddler having a tantrum.

"Yeah…no…Charles didn't ask me to talk to you about that and I think he's still pissed about it himself, actually, so maybe don't call him unprofessional to his face when you two do decide to talk about it." I see Michael leaning closer to me, trying to eavesdrop so I move my body to face Jacob and lean in a little bit closer.

"I don't get why he's pissed; I mean I'm just trying to make this band the best it can be, and it's not my fault if we all sounded terrible." He sniffs loudly and starts picking at his nails.

I roll my eyes. I really don't want to get into this conversation.

"Okay, whatever Jacob. I have some good news for you, I think."

Jacob raises his eyebrows at me and motions for me to continue.

"You know the Trista Benefit gala thing every year?"

"Is that the one about the suicide lady?"

"Yeah, but don't call it that…anyway my stepfather runs the organization and puts on the benefit every year and-"

"He does? Why does he do that?" Jacob interrupts me to ask.

"Because Trista is his late wife…but anyway-"

"Why was she late?" Jacob butts in again.

Oh my God.

"What? No... she wasn't late to like events or anything Jacob, late in this context means dead."

"Oh because she offed herself?"

I take a deep breath and slowly release it and smile "Yes, Jacob, she's dead because she "offed" herself."

"And that's why he does the benefit?"

"Exactly."

"Oh. Wait, is Trista Harper's mom?"

"Yessssss" I nod slowly.

"Oh. Is that why Harper feels the need to sleep with people who have boyfriends?"

I feel a headache coming on.

"I don't know Jacob, why don't you ask her?"

Jacob frowns and looks over me, to Michael, who is pretending to wrapped up in his sheet music and not listening in.

"I'll pass. I'm not really in the mood for a chat with her lately."

"Understandable. But anyway…as I was trying to tell you, my stepfather told me that we could perform at the benefit."

Jacob widens his eyes and looks at me, a smile slowly forming on his face "You got us a gig?"

"Well I mean it was more so given to us but yeah."

Jacob grabs my shoulder and squeezes it.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Awesome."

I hear a loud huff from Michael when Jacob keeps his on my shoulder.

"Wow. We break up and you're already trying to get with someone else the same week."

Jacob quickly removes his hand from my shoulder and leans over me to glare at Michael.

"Oh fuck off, Michael. How can you be so sanctimonious when you're the one who cheated on me? And with a girl? I think that may be more embarrassing than the cheating honestly."

"So if I cheated with a dude you'd be more okay with it? Aren't you a biphobic piece of shit?"

"Oh so you're "bisexual" now, huh? Well you're certainly living up to the stereotype of being a slut."

"Does Charles know you think so lowly of bisexuals?"

"I don't  _have_  a problem with bisexuals, I have a problem with liars and cheats which is what you are."

"Oh okay then. Glad you cleared that up. Go and have sex with Ian. You two can be the most vanilla gay couple ever."

"Me and Ian are not sleeping together, Michael. Because unlike you, I can't have sex with someone when I'm in love with someone else."

"Whatever." Michael grabs his school bag and stands up "I'm leaving. Call me when you want to talk about this like an adult instead of boohooing and acting like a child."

Michael walks out of the music room, the teacher paying no heed.

It kinda sucks that it's so easy to skip music class because this is the one class I actually like going to.

Jacob makes a snorting noise "I'm acting like a child? Does he see himself?"

I shrug. I'm not making a comment one way or the other.

They're both acting ridiculous in different ways.

"I can't believe he accused me of trying to have sex with you."

"Hmmm"

"I mean you're totally my type and everything but right now sex is the last thing on my mind." Jacob starts shuffling the sheet music "But you know maybe in a month or so we could explore this attraction further."

Um. What? Explore what attraction? To who? Each other? WHAT?

"What?" I raise my eyebrows and look at him.

"Ian, it's pretty obvious there is something between us."

"Yeah, the music stand." I gesture towards it.

"Ian, we kissed remember?" Jacob is looking at me like I'm dumb.

"You kissed  _me_."

"Still though, I feel the heated chemistry between us."

I widen my eyes and feel my cheeks flush. Jacob has lost his mind.

"Okay but I like Charles and I'm pretty sure he likes me."

Jacob raises his head to look at me and snorts.

"Charles, Ian? Really?"

I bite my lip and nod.

"No, that is never going to work, trust me." Jacob shakes his head and run his hands through his hair, smiling at me like I'm a child.

I sigh loudly and roll my eyes. Jacob is really starting to piss me off.

"Okay, why not?"

"Charles is young and wild…kinda reckless, you know? He likes casual sex and he flirts a lot and he likes to party. You're this doe-eyed virgin who's just going to be used and thrown away. I'm looking out for you dude"

I look across the room at Charles, who's talking to Ethan. He looks up at me and smiles. I smile back.

"Okay well actually I'm not a virgin and Charles isn't a character from a teen movie and we're both more three dimensional than that."

Jacob shrugs and smirks at me like he's amused.

"Whatever you say."

I kinda see now why him and Michael were such a strong couple.

Class ends and Ethan and Charles meet up with us by the door.

"Well aren't you a brave little toaster" Ethan says, pulling my head to his chest and petting it "I can't believe you went off to the gallows like that, sitting next to those two assholes while they make underhanded comments towards one another."

"Well actually they were pretty heavy handed in the insult department today." I say, trying to walk with my head plastered to Ethan's chest.

I avoid looking at Charles. I know I shouldn't let Jacob's comments bother me but after my conversation with Harper last night, I'm even more freaked out.

Ethan finally lets go of my head and we all walk towards the cafeteria.

"So what happened with Michael anyway?" Charles asks, sliding up next to me. "Why'd he walk out of class?"

"He thinks me and Jacob are having an explicit yet vanilla love affair."

Ethan throws his head back and laughs while Charles smirks and raises his eyebrows at me. I turn away from him.

"What a paranoid idiot." Ethan grabs a table and pulls a chair up.

"I don't think it's  _that_  far-fetched, Ethan." Jacob butts in and sits beside me, across from Ethan.

Ethan raises his left eyebrow and looks between me and Charles, who is sitting across from me. Charles is frowning. I look down and take out my lunch. Carrots, hummus and pitas.

"Anyway, Ian shared some good news." Jacob says, taking out a pudding cup.

"Harper thinks I'm amazing and wants to marry me right after high school?" Ethan guesses.

"I said good news, Ethan not delusions. I don't know why you like her so much anyway. She obviously lacks good moral character."

"And you lack a filter but somehow people still like you." I cut in.

"Right. I forget she's your "sister". I'll refrain from making any more comments."

"You kind of just made another comment with the sister comment, but whatever"

"Ohh feisty" Ethan starts laughing and tries to high five me. I ignore him.

"Anyway, Ian told me that his step dad is letting us perform at the Trista Benefit this year."

"The Trista Benefit? Isn't that in honor of some lady who offed herself in a bathtub?" Ethan asks, his whole face in a giant bag of salt and vinegar chips.

"It's in honor of Harper's mother who committed suicide, yes." Jacob says, acting as if he didn't make a similar comment last class period.

Ethan takes his head out of the bag and puts his hand to his chest "Harper's mother committed suicide?" He turns to me.

I nod my head.

"Explains why she has such a tragic but beautiful demeanor."

"Let's not romanticize suicide, Ethan. A woman died and a child grew up without a mother." Charles says rolling his eyes at Ethan's theatrics. At least someone gets it.

" _Harper_  grew up without a mother."

"She's fine." I say.

"Is she though?"

I ignore Ethan's question.

"But anyway, Ian's step dad is doing us a huge favor in terms of publicity so let's make sure we do our best. We have to practice really hard. This is for charity guys." Jacob says leaning halfway across to the table to Charles and Ethan.

"Tell us we suck again and I'm shoving a sandwich up your ass and not just throwing it on the floor." Charles says, looking Jacob dead in the eye.

"Noted."

"Is Michael coming to practice?" Ethan asks, putting his head back into the chip bag. Those must be some really good chips.

"Obviously. Why wouldn't he?"

"Because you hate each other and he think you're in love with Ian and he slept with Ian's sister and you called him slutty last period." Ethan says, his voice slightly muffled inside the chip bag.

"How do you know I called him slutty?" Jacobs asks cocking his head to the side.

"He texted me when I asked him why he left. He went home by the way."

"Hmmm maybe you two should date. He clearly had no problem communicating with you." Jacob's voice is flat and it's obvious he's annoyed.

Ethan pulls his head out of the chip bag and says "Don't be so salty Jacob, geeze. I'm his best friend; he's obviously going to tell me stuff."

I feel a kick under the table and look up. Charles is gesturing towards the door. I'm not sure if he's a good idea to talk to him right now, not with all the stuff Jacob has said swirling in my head, along with the anxiety of the sex talk with Harper from last night.

I nod my head anyway.

Charles and I stand up at the same time and leave the table without saying anything. Ethan's head is bag inside the chip bag so I'm not sure if he even notices.

I follow Charles to the bleachers and we sit down. Charles leans back so he's practically laying on the bleachers. I sit up straight.

"So what's up?" Charles asks, his hands shielding his face from the sun.

"What do you mean?" I pick at my shoelaces.

"You seemed upset at lunch."

"Did I?" I ask, avoiding the question.

"You got pretty snotty with Jacob - not that he didn't deserve it - but you usually have a lot more tolerance for assholes than most people."

I huff out a small laugh "Well my stepfather is the biggest asshole of them all so I have a lot of practice."

Charles' foot nudges my thigh "So what's wrong?"

"I kinda told Jacob that I liked you."

Charles, removes his hand covering his eyes and looks up to smile at me.

"Oh yeah? Did you tell him I like you too?"

I nod but bury my face in my hands.

I can feel Charles sitting up and leaning towards me, carefully touching my shoulder.

"And did Jacob say something dumb as fuck?" Charles asks, his voice sounding hard and stern.

I take my face out of my hands and look away from Charles, out into the football field. I've never been to a single football game. Maybe I should go. Put it on my bucket list and all that.

"Ian?" Charles, lightly taps my shoulder with his index finger.

"He said that you liked casual sex and partying too much to want to be with me. He also called me a doe-eyed virgin but that's not important, I don't think."

Charles takes a deep breath.

"Jacob is a judgmental jackass sometimes."

I nod my head, still avoiding his eyes.

"For the record, Ian, if I just wanted to sleep with you I would have put that out on the table. I don't lead people to believe there is anything more if there isn't. And I'm pretty sure I've put it on the table that I want more than just sex from you."

"Okay but what if I don't want to have sex at all?" I ask, turning to look at him.

"I don't care that you're a virgin, Ian. If I did I wouldn't have pursued you in the first place." Charles gives my shoulder a light squeeze.

I shake my head and look back onto the football field.

"I'm not a virgin. I just don't know if I want to have sex again. My first time…it hurt really bad and I was scared the whole time and I wish it never happened."

I hear Charles breathe out loudly and I know he's pretty much over me at this point. I basically told him I was defective.

I jump when he grabs my right hand.

"I'm sorry that your first time having sex was so shitty. It's not supposed to be like that. Sex is supposed to feel good and be fun." I turn to look at Charles as he's talking. "With that said though, I can wait. I just want to hang out with you and make out with you and touch you as much as possible but you get to tell me how much of that is allowed. If you tell me no touching, that's cool too. You're gorgeous so I'm fine just looking at you."

I can feel my face flushing at his words and smile.

"Touching is okay."

"Awesome." I can feel Charles stroking my hand. "Do you wanna go on a date?"

"Do people date anymore? Harper says they don't"

"Well I'm an old-fashioned kind of guy. Very traditional, you know. When we start going steady I'm going to have to join a sports team just so you can wear my letterman jacket."

"Ok, but you have to make sure my stepfather doesn't find out. He'd go ballistic."

Charles' frowns but nods.

"He won't know a thing, I promise."

I smile at him, the apprehension of last night's conversation melting off my body.

I have a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to Shanblue for editing! <3


	25. Twenty-Five

"Oh by the way, I invited Harper to come listen to us today after she gets out of practice," I mumble, cracking my knuckles and looking down at the keyboard I'm supposed to playing.

We're all in Jacob's basement for "practice". "Practice" today means Jacob essentially bosses us around and huffs at Michael a lot.

Ethan lets out a cackle that kind of sounds like a bird. "Ian, I swear to god you must want to watch the world burn."

I look up and both Jacob and Michael are glaring at me like I've personally offended their grandma or something.

"What?"

"Are you serious right now, Ian?" Jacob asks, throwing his arms up and staring at me.

"Well I mean the benefit  _is_  for her mother, you're all going to have to come face-to-face with her eventually. Plus she can tell you what kind of music her dad approves of more than I can." I shrug my left shoulder and try to make a face that conveys innocence yet is practical.

"You realize you've essentially invited Monica Lewinsky into the white house, correct?" Jacob asks, hands on his hips.

Michael huffs out a laugh and says "Well technically Monica was already invited into the white house. That's how she ended up sucking Bill's dick."

Jacob turns to glare at Michael "So what're you saying, Michael? Did you fuck her in my basement too?"

"No but that's actually a really good idea, Jacob. Maybe I'll ask her if she's interested when she gets down here." Michael's voice is practically dripping with venom.

"Guys, come on! Ian has a point, you're going to see Harper again and it's going to be awkward. Better it be awkward in private than awkward in public." How surprising that it's Ethan who is the voice of reason. Although he's probably only saying that because he gets to see Harper.

"Ethan, I'm curious…do you like Harper more now that you found out she's my sloppy seconds? Because if so, Jacob is currently single and you can just suck his dick if you wanna be closer to me," Michael says, in a bored tone purposefully studying his nails.

"Well that was uncalled for," Charles says, frowning at Michael. "Watch your mouth, Michael. If you haven't noticed you're already in hot water with a good majority of the band."

Michael looks up and starts walking towards Charles, standing directly in front of him "Is that a threat, Charles?" he asks, leaning in.

"More like advice, but if you don't get out of my face I'm going to rip your teeth out of your mouth." Charles says, leaning in as well and giving a sweet smile.

Michael leans away, glaring for a second before walking away.

Harper of course picks this moment to barrel through the basement door, a large hoagie and diet coke in her hands.

"Jacob, your mom just gave me a feast fit for kings. Does she know I sexed up your boyfriend? Oh my god she probably does and hates Michael so much she appreciates me for it." Harper says her mouth half-full of whatever sandwich she's eating, snorting with laughter.

She stops laughing when she notices no one is even cracking a smile over her joke.

"Oh are we still upset about all of that?"

"Well considering  _we_  all just found out about  _you_  "sexing up my boyfriend" last weekend, I'd say yes, we're all still a little bit sore about it." Jacob says, rolling his eyes at Harper.

"Well then why'd you invite me over?"

" _I_ didn't invite you over, you sociopath, your brother did."

"Well I'm feeling a little attacked right now, not gonna lie."

"Good." Jacob says, giving Harper a forced smile.

Harper rolls her eyes at Jacob and takes another bite of her sandwich, opening her mouth and exposing half-eaten food.

"Classy." Jacob sniffs loudly and looks away.

"Harper why don't you sit over here…away from Jacob. And chew with your mouth closed." Charles grabs Harper, leading her to the pool table and helping her sit on it.

After a beat of silence where we all kind of watch Harper eat, Jacob (of course) breaks it "Well since you're here anyway, you can tell us what kind of music your dad wants us to play for the benefit."

"Ughhh are you fucking kidding me right now?" Harper's voice goes high and whiney "You invited me over to talk about the stupid benefit?"

"Ian invited you over to talk about the stupid benefit." Michael deadpans in the corner from his drum set.

"God you can't trust anyone nowadays. Can someone take me to the hospital for my fucking STAB wounds?"

"What, you don't like the benefit?" Ethan guesses.

"No, I love it. Nothing is more fun to me than spending an evening with everyone I've ever met in this shitty town coming up to me with their sympathy over my mother being a part of the suicide squad." Harper takes a lock of her curly hair and starts twisting it around her fingers "And then I get to hear my dad make a speech about her being the "great love of his life" and acting like this really awesome and caring person while Ian's mom stands awkwardly in the corner drinking a gallon of wine and acting like everything is perfect and fine when we're all really in purgatory."

"Yeah I guess I can see where that'd suck." Ethan tries to empathize.

Harper gives Ethan a flat-faced look and rolls her eyes.

"My dad had testicular cancer and is always telling people about his prosthetic balls." Ethan tries again.

Harper cracks a smile and snorts "Okay yeah that's almost as bad."

"Oh but wait I haven't finished yet. He then makes sure to tell me every time he brings it up to people, that testicular cancer runs in the family and I need to do self-ball checks monthly and then asks me if I've been checking my balls."

Harper huffs out a laugh "He does not."

"Uh Charles? Confirm or deny?"

"No, he totally does. He once asked me if I was checking my balls monthly" Charles supplies, laughing.

"Oh geeze, Ian…are you checking your balls monthly?" Harper turns to me, grinning.

"Do not drag me into this." I say, smiling despite myself.

"Ian. This is an important medical check you need to do. You should go over to Ethan's house and ask his dad to check your balls for you." Harper tries to look serious but she's grinning too hard.

"Or better yet you get his dad to teach you to check your balls and then check his to return the favor" Michael says dryly in the corner. Mark this day in your calendar. Michael actually cracked a joke in front of me.

"No one is touching my dad's balls!" Ethan puts his hands over his ears and groans

"Only because you're too busy touching them." Michael shouts so that Ethan can hear over his hands covering his ears.

"Just because your dad taught you it was normal to feel up his balls, doesn't mean everyone else's father is a child molester, Michael." Ethan shouts back, grinning at Michael.

I see the smile drop slightly off of Harper's face. She catches my eye and looks away.

"Seriously guys, let's actually try to make a set list or something today." I interrupt, surprising everyone.

I just don't want this conversation to continue anymore.

"At least Ian has my maturity level." Jacob says, sniffing loudly.

Ethan, Michael and Charles all groan.

Harper pretty much nixes most of our usual playlists. Madonna and Coldplay apparently aren't appropriate to play at a charity event for depression and suicide awareness.

Jacob tries to argue with her but doesn't get very far, mainly because Michael takes her side which automatically makes Jacob shut down and just agree.

It's after practice, when me and Harper are walking home that I tell her about my date with Charles.

"Seriously, Ian?" Harper asks, her left eyebrow raised and her head cocked slightly to the side.

"What?"

Harper sighs loudly. "Just make sure my dad doesn't find out."

"Obviously. I already told Charles we have to be low key about this."

"But does he  _really_  get it? Because seriously, if my dad even gets a whiff of anything going on between you two…well you know it won't be good."

I feel a knot of apprehension in my stomach, but I take a deep breath and will it to go away.

"Yeah, he gets it, seriously, seriously, seriously gets it."

"Make sure he knows that means hands-off at the benefit. You know my dad will be watching you all like hawks the whole time."

"I'm pretty sure he knows that already but I'll make sure to mention it to him just to make sure."

"Good."

I follow Harper into the house, taking my shoes off at the door and walking up the stairs behind her.

Hopefully no one will fuck this up. Especially me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Shanblue for editing! <3


	26. Twenty-Six

After dinner that night, (which was one of the more pleasant meal experiences I’ve had with my stepfather, ever...apparently making friends with seemingly normal straight guys does a lot to keep harrassment down) I get a call from Charles. 

I run my fingers through my hair before realizing how stupid it is to care about how I looked when I’m talking over the phone and roll my eyes at myself. I fall back onto my bed and answer the phone. 

Before I can even say hello or hi or what’s up, Charles has already started speaking. “So, I got the perfect idea for our date.” 

I sit up quickly and look around, suddenly worried that somehow my stepfather will be able to hear Charles over the phone. He’s not on speakerphone, my door is closed and my stepfather is at least one to two floors down, but I still can’t help but fear him.

“Oh yeah?” I ask, my voice going to a whisper. 

There’s an elongated pause.

“Dude, why are you whispering?” Charles asks, and I can almost feel him smirking over the phone. 

I force out a laugh and try to swallow even though my throat is suddenly so dry. “Sorry, I’m a little paranoid my stepfather will somehow hear.” 

“Oh.” Charles almost sounds awkward. But Charles is never awkward. Just me. 

“Ian, please don’t worry. You told me discreet; I will be discreet.” 

I rub my hand over my right eyebrow and scrunch up my nose. “Yeah, yeah. Sorry for being a freak about everything, it’s just-”

“Ian, you’re not being a freak about anything. Your stepfather has shown you he can’t be trusted in accepting you for your sexuality, ergo you don’t trust him with knowing any sort of details concerning your sexuality.” 

“Did you just say ergo?” I ask, smiling. 

“Shut up, I’m going to be a lawyer or a politician or some other profession where I can argue and use articulate words in daily speech one day,” Charles says slightly laughing. 

“Now back to the topic at hand; I have the perfect idea for a date. It’s like the perfect straight man activity. Your dad will eat it up...he’s such a dumbass he probably assumes gay men only get manicures and go shopping. Although looking at your clothes, I don’t know why he’d think that....” 

“Ha ha. You and Harper should start a club concerning your shared interest in my shitty clothing choices.” 

“Oh trust me Ian, my interest isn’t in your clothes.” Charles voice drops down to husky whisper as he speaks and my pants start feeling uncomfortably tight. I swallow loudly over the phone and laugh. 

“So no manicures? I’m slightly disappointed,” I attempt to joke. 

“That’s my civic duty of the week: not forcing a manicurist to work on your bitten to hell nails.” 

“So what are we doing?” 

“Nah-uh,” Charles says and makes a loud TSK noise over the phone, “This shall be a SUR-prise for you.” 

“Why are you emphasizing sur? Is that a hint?” 

“No, that’s just how I say SUR-prise. But I do have to mention one tiny detail of this planned event because while I like SUR-prises, I don’t want to SUR-prise you too much.” 

“Uh huh?” I ask, wondering what he’s about to prepare me for. 

“So, uh, this activity needs an adult supervision type deal so my dad is gonna take us and stay with us the whole time,” Charles says this in one breath and it takes me a minute to process what he told me. 

I huff out a laugh when I understand. 

“Charles...your dad is taking us?” 

“Affirmative,” Charles says flatly. “But don’t worry. His friends will be there so we can sneak off at some point and make out in a corner once he’s distracted.” 

“What the fuck are we doing?” I’m starting to get nervous about this planned activity. 

“Something manly and straight,” Charles says in an evasive manner. 

“You’re not taking me to a strip club, are you?” What else could be manly, straight and in need of adult supervision?

“No! That would be creepy as fuck. What kind of dad would take their underaged son and his paramour who is also underaged to a strip club?” Charles asks. “Plus we can’t get into strip clubs even with parental supervision. Duh, Ian.” 

“I’m kind of scared about what kind of depraved activity you have in mind.” 

And in truth, I really am. 

“Oh, you will love it. It’ll make you feel alive. Plus your step-dad won’t suspect a thing when I pick you up with my dad to participate in this activity.” Charles sounds so smug and sure of himself I can’t help but feel a bit assured even though 80 percent of me still has the alarms up that this will be a terrible thing and end in tragedy for everyone involved. 

“And does your dad understand what he’s actually supervising.” This is kind of important for me to know so I know how to act plus I don’t really want Charles’ dad to know either because the more people in on a “secret” the more likely it is to be told. 

“Ummm not technically but he has his suspicions I’m sure.” 

My stomach drops and I feel sick “Charles, I’m not sure if-” 

“Do. Not. Finish. That. Sentence.” Charles interrupts “My dad won’t say anything other than he took you and me somewhere manly to have some manly experiences and bonding time of the non-homo variety. Please don’t worry.” Charles is practically whining by this point. 

“Okay.” I whisper in defeat. 

“Ian, I promise you. This will be fun. Your step-dad won’t know anything’s up with us other than us being bros. My dad won’t say anything that will make your step-dad suspect us of being anything other than bros.” Charles is speaking in a soothing voice by this point, as if he’s talking someone off a ledge instead of convincing them to going on a date. 

“I trust you.” And I do. Mostly. 

“Good. I’m going to use that against you so I can slip a hand under your shirt.” 

I awkwardly try to laugh but it sounds more like a cough. 

I can hear Charles chuckle over the phone. 

“Goodnight, Ian. Don’t stress.” 

“I won’t. Goodnight.” 

Charles hangs up. I fall back on by bed and stare up at my ceiling. 

I kind of hope that Charles will slip his hand under my shirt…

As long as my stepfather doesn’t find out. 

And that is the crux of the problem. Every good thing goes back to my fear of my stepfather ruining it in some way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay! I am NOT ever abandoning this story but I do get into severe bouts of depression and such so it takes me a while at times when I lose my motivation to finish what I started. Thanks to everyone who has been sending me messages about this; I appreciate it!


	27. Twenty-Seven

“Hmmm...his dad and him probably have some fucked up fetish thing that they do together and they’re going to drive you out to a secluded area in the woods and then hunt you like a wild animal. After they catch you, they’ll dismember you, and like, Charles will shove your cut-off arm into his dad’s asshole or something.” 

 

This is the theory that Harper thoughtfully supplies over breakfast the next morning when I tell her about my date with Charles .

 

I roll my eyes at Harper. “Where do you even come up with an idea like that?” 

 

“What you don’t know is that sometimes I join them in shoving dismembered body parts up their assholes.” Harper states, slurping on her kiwi and spinach smoothie. 

 

“Oh, that’s nice of you. What body part do you most prefer up your asshole?” I ask dryly. 

 

“Obviously I’m the pitcher and not the catcher in this situation.” 

 

“Oh, of course,” I nod my head as if that actually makes sense. 

 

Harper takes another long sip of her smoothie and looks up towards the sky; we’re sitting outside the patio and it’s a bright sunny morning. 

 

After a moment of silence Harper speaks up, still looking into the treeline. “Honestly, he’s probably going to take you to, like, a lame movie or something. Why else would he need to drag his dad along? Unless he really is some kind of freak with a daddy fetish.” 

“If he had a daddy fetish wouldn’t he want to call me daddy or something?” I ask, scratching my head. 

 

“Ian, I am sorry to say but you could not be someone’s daddy. You need a daddy, let’s be real here.” 

 

“What does that even mean?” 

 

“Just google daddy porn. I am not explaining a BDSM subculture to you. It’s way too early for that.” Harper leans back on the patio furniture and closes her eyes. 

 

“Too early? You brought it up.” 

 

“Well obviously I did but I didn’t expect it to carry on this long.” Harper opens her eyes to look at me and smile. 

 

“I hate you.” I stick my tongue out at her.   
“You’re just mad because you’re going to be chopped up and have your dismembered body parts shoved up an old guy’s ass,” Harper says in a sing-song voice, holding back a cackle. 

 

“Sounds like you want to have something of yours shoved up an old guy’s ass since you’re the one fixating.” I parrot my voice to sound like Harper’s. 

 

“I’m not the one going on a date with someone and their dad,” Harper responds.. 

 

“I’m not going on a date with his dad- his dad will just happen to be there with us,” I remind her again. 

 

“I’m just saying, I watched a gay porn begin like that once or twice, and it always ended with a gangbang.” 

 

“You do not watch gay porn.” I cross my arms and roll my eyes at Harper. 

 

“Uh, yes I do,” Harper states plainly. “You get two dicks for one movie plus it helps me understand the nuances of the prostate so that when I finally meet a man who will let me peg him I’ll know exactly what to do.” 

 

“Okay.” I blink away the images coming to mind. “Let’s never discuss this again.” 

 

“Prude.” Harper takes her straw out of her cup and uses it to spit her green smoothie on my face.

 

“Heathen.” I say as I stick my tongue out at her. 

 

After I wipe the mix of green smoothie and spit off my face we go our separate ways; Harper offered me a ride to school, but I honestly would rather ride my bike. Having friends makes me appreciate being alone to think. I like the guys, but they talk too much. 

 

Ethan pretty much proves my point when he jumps up and flails his arms in a wave as I walk into first period. 

 

“Charles told me about your date,” Ethan whispers loudly as soon as I sit down. 

 

“Did Charles also tell you we’re trying to be discreet?” I ask, shooting a look around the room to see if anyone who may know my stepfather could have heard us. 

 

“Dude, don’t be that guy.”

 

I raise my eyebrows at him.

 

“What guy?” 

 

“The guy who loses his one true love because he can’t handle being out,” Ethan leans in close and whispers in my ear, sounding frustrated. 

 

“Ethan, no offense but you’re straight and this is one of those things you just won’t get,” I whisper and turn to look at him. 

 

“Is this your subtle way of telling me to check my privilege?” Ethan quirks an eyebrow at me. 

 

“No. I’m just saying... you won’t get beaten up or killed for having a crush on Harper; Charles and I... we could.” Speaking it out loud makes my heart race. I look around the class again but no one is paying any attention to us. We’re supposed to be working on an assigned reading and essay- not discussing the dangers of homosexuality in the 21st century. 

 

“Dude, our town is super progressive. That would never happen here,” Ethan whispers, leaning in to touch the back of my neck; I swat him off. 

 

“My stepfather isn’t so progressive,” I mumble and look down. 

 

“Oh.” 

 

I glance up through my eyelashes. Ethan actually looks kind of embarrassed for once. 

 

“He wouldn’t like, kick you out or anything would he? If he knew?” Ethan is leaning really close and using a voice I’ve only heard him use a few times, when he’s trying really hard to be sensitive and not an idiot. 

 

“What’s “or anything”?” I mumble in a flat voice. 

 

I breathe out and look at Ethan, shaking my head. “No, no he wouldn’t do anything to me.” I don’t want to go down that route with Ethan. He’s too naive to have to deal with my bullshit. 

 

“Okay...well if you ever need to like get away for a few days you can totally come stay with me. My dad won’t mind. He’s in the CIA you know and he’s, like, always away on assignment.” 

 

“Your dad is in the CIA?” 

 

“I bare my soul to you and you focus on that?” Ethan pretends to be upset and puts his hand to his chest in offense. 

 

“Is he really in the CIA?” 

 

“Uhh yeah dude. I have a shit ton of weird spy stuff around the house that was decommissioned and my dad was allowed to bring home as a civilian.” 

 

“That’s...kind of cool.” 

 

“Not really. I always feel like he’s watching me. He says he’s not, but literally, he owns a HD camera and microphone the size of pin. He could totally put cameras around the house without any of us knowing. I feel like I can’t even pee in peace.” 

 

I think about that- think about my stepfather having that kind of power. It makes me feel nauseous. What little privacy I have at home would be completely taken away had he chosen a different path, one more similar to Ethan’s dad. 

 

“Yeah...I don’t think I’d like that,” I tell him, after a pause. 

 

“What do you think about guns?” Ethan asks, his voice attempting to sound casual and light, changing the subject entirely. 

 

“What?” I ask, trying to figure out where this conversation is going. “Does your dad own a lot of guns too?” 

 

“Well yeah, but I was actually changing subjects, duh,” Ethan says, rolling his eyes. “So opinions on guns?” 

 

“I mean... what are you even asking me?” I turn to look at him to show my confusion. 

 

“You know- what do you think about guns?” Ethan is not making this any easier for me. “Would you use slash shoot one if given the chance, or would you pussy out in fear?” 

 

“Um, am I using one to kill someone or something?” 

 

“No you loser, you’re just shooting at a target for practice.” 

 

“Why?” 

 

“For fun?” Ethan says in a tone suggesting the obvious. 

 

“As long as this isn’t a Most Dangerous Game territory or something I guess it’d be fun to just shoot at something?” I say scratching my head and looking at Ethan with raised eyebrows. 

 

“What’s that?” Ethan asks, scrunching his nose up. 

 

“We read it this year?” I gesture around our English class. 

 

“What?” 

 

“The Most Dangerous Game?” I point towards a poster on the wall depicting the short story. 

 

“Golf? Mini Golf?” Ethan guesses, looking over at the poster. 

 

“How are you not failing?” 

 

“I give all the teachers head.” Ethan flexes his eyebrows at me. 

 

“Gross.” 

 

I turn around and actually complete the assignment given, while Ethan tries to distract me with further discussion on golf, the band, and Harper. I ignore him. 

 

Class ends and Ethan dramatically walks me to my next class, pretending to cry as he leaves me. 

 

Just another day.


	28. Twenty-Eight

When Charles picks me up on Saturday (or Charles’ dad, actually, who is friendly but stiff and tells me to call him “Mr. Amer” as if that’s the informal way of referring to adults), Ethan’s weird gun questions makes more sense. 

Charles is apparently taking me to the gun range with his dad. 

My stepfather surprisingly enough didn’t make many comments when I asked to hang out with Charles and his dad. The only thing he said really was that he was “happy” I was “hanging out with someone from a normal family”. 

“So, Ian, have you ever been shooting before?” Mr. Amer asks, looking at me in the rearview mirror (I think; he’s wearing a thick pair of sunglasses that block his eyes). 

“Uh no, sir.” 

“Really? I thought Robert liked to hunt…” 

“He does.” I nod my head, confirming. 

“You don’t go with him?” 

“Dad, I told you Ian is a vegetarian” Charles speaks up, sounding annoyed. I can almost see his eye roll, even though he’s facing forward and I’m in the back. 

“Charles, people are vegetarians for many reasons. Ian may be one for health purposes or religious purposes or ethical purposes, or all three. One should not assume someone’s viewpoint on things simply because of their diet.” Mr. Amer speaks in a soft, clipped voice. I can’t ever imagine him yelling at anyone. 

“Uh. He took me when I was a kid, a few times but he prefers to use traditional tools when he hunts, so even then I never used a gun,” I speak up before Charles can respond to his dad. 

“Traditional tools?” Mr. Amer asks, the confusion in his voice is apparent. 

“Yeah, like knives and stuff.” 

“Oh. That is very violent,” Mr. Amer states. He sounds concerned. 

“Dad you can’t go around calling people’s hobbies violent. It sounds judgemental,” Charles says, breathing out loudly in a huff. 

“Ian is not offended, are you Ian?” 

I laugh lightly. 

“No Mr. Amer, I agree with you. It is very violent. That’s why I don’t eat meat.” 

“Ah. Bad experience hunting, huh? Yes, you were probably too young and the death was too violent for you.” Mr. Amer nods his head in understanding. “Well don’t worry Ian, I don’t like killing things for sport. This is just target practice. If you’re not having fun though let me know and we can go to a movie or get frozen yogurt.” 

I nod my head, even though Mr. Amer can’t see me. 

He looks up into the rearview mirror with a serious face. 

“Now Ian honestly, if you don’t feel comfortable, tell me. I don’t want Charles’ friends to ever feel unsafe or uncomfortable. Understand?” 

“Yes sir.” I look into the rearview mirror and nod. 

True to Charles’ word, his dad pretty much lets us be once we get set up at the gun range, he get his own stall and periodically looks over at us while he’s talking to a couple he apparently knows through the gun range. 

“Sorry about my dad. He can be...weird.” Charles says looking down at what I think is a handgun and filling it with blanks...I hope. 

“He’s nice. Don’t be sorry.” I shift the gun I was given from my left and right hands, looking down at my and Charles’ shoes. 

“So what do you think?” Charles asks me, I look up to see he's leaning against the stall smiling. “Do you think your stepfather would approve?” 

“I can’t believe my first date is at a gun range.” I say, not answering the question. I look at Charles and smile to show I’m joking. 

“First date ever or first date with me?” Charles asks, beginning to smile like a cheshire cat. 

“Don’t get cocky. We’re 16 in an era where no one dates. It’s not that big of an accomplishment.” I smirk at Charles and roll my eyes.   
“Going on a date with you is a pretty big accomplishment. One day I can tell my grandchildren about how I was the very first date for a guy who went on to become a supermodel.” Charles leans in and winks. 

I scoff loudly and roll my eyes. 

“Too bad for you I’m going to be a veterinarian.” 

“Of course you are. Saving the world one baby animal at a time.” Charles reaches out to touch my hand lightly. Our hands aren’t visible from where we stand but I still discreetly check to make sure no one is watching us. 

“Hey,” Charles whispers, “You’re safe. No one is looking at us.” 

He smiles at me when I meet his eyes. 

“Sorry.” 

“Don’t be. Just trust me though, okay? I told you I wouldn’t let your step dad find out.” Charles squeezes my three middle fingers lightly. 

“Okay.” I smile when I look up at him. 

We periodically take turns firing at the target while making moon-eyes at each other for most of the date. I’m a terrible shot, not surprising. Charles is actually good. Apparently his dad takes him to the shooting range once a month or so as a way to hang out. 

“So, can I get more detail on the bad hunting experience?” Charles asks after a period of silence. He glances at me before staring straight ahead at the target. 

I let out a loud sigh. 

“It’s cool if you don’t want to tell me, I was just curious. You told me you’re stepdad is a huge asshole so I kind of wanted to gauge how big of an asshole he is.” 

“No. It’s okay. I’ll tell you.” I glance at Charles but he’s still staring ahead. 

“One year, for Christmas, he took our family skiing at this super expensive mountain resort. Rented this expensive cabin. It looked like a storybook. It was really nice.” I lick my lips and take a deep breath. “I thought it was going to be a nice vacation, for once.”

I stare at the target for a minute before speaking again. “But then he brought a pig to the cabin. It was still alive and screaming. Have you ever heard a pig scream? It’s fucked up. He made me catch it and slit it’s throat. He cooked it for Christmas dinner and I haven’t had meat since.”

There’s a long silence. 

I glance at Charles and am surprised to see he’s staring at me. I can’t read his face.   
“Wow.” Charles takes a deep breath and looks back at the target. “You’re stepdad is serial killer material.”

“Yeah…” 

“What did your mom say about it? Or what does she say about him in general?” 

“She mostly just drinks a lot and acts like nothing’s wrong.” 

“So, she’s useless.” 

“Pretty much.” I nod and laugh. 

“Anyone else know he’s a creep?” 

“Harper knows” 

“And me, now.” Charles gestures to himself and nods. 

“And you, now.” I nod. 

Charles stares at me for a minute before smiling.

“Why are you smiling?”

“Because guys like your stepdad get off on hiding that they’re creeps. He’ll talk and joke with me and think he has the wool over my eyes and the whole time I’ll know he’s a piece of shit. So while he’s thinking he’s won; I’ll be the real winner.” 

“What exactly are you winning?” I ask, raising my eyebrows.

“His fucked up mind game.”

“I don’t think there is a winner there, honestly Charles.”

“Maybe not. But I know I’m not the loser.”


	29. Twenty-Nine

“I told Charles about the Christmas pig incident.”

I’m lying on Harper’s bed, watching her tweeze her eyebrows. I see her lift her eyebrow in the mirror, but I’m not sure if she’s doing it to get a better look at what she’s tweezing or if she’s doing it because she’s surprised by my statement.

“Well, that's certainly a sexy conversation for a first date,” Harper says drily. “Did you also tell him about the time my dad made you puke from crying so hard?”

“No. I probably would have though had it come up in conversation.” I pick at a hangnail on my hand.

“Ian, one of the things I like most about you is your openness and honesty, but you gotta learn to reel it in. People like us don’t get to spill secrets and feelings. We’d end up in foster care with some crackhead responsible for us.” Harper yanks out a hair with her tweezers; there’s a small bit of blood running down her eyebrow.

“Yeah. I know.” I roll over onto my back and stare at the ceiling.

It’s silent for a few minutes and I feel myself start to relax and fall asleep.

“How’s practice for the benefit going?” I can hear Harper rummaging around, probably trying to grab a tissue for her nicked eyebrow.

I crack open my eyes.

“Jacob and Michael keep arguing over whether certain songs are tasteless or appropriate for a benefit about suicide.”

“You should just play some nice smooth jazz for the old people and leave it at that.”

“I don’t think we know any smooth jazz. Do you even know what smooth jazz is?”

“Mmmhmmm. It’s elevator music.”

“What kind of music did your mom even listen to, anyway? Maybe we should play her favorite songs.”

I almost immediately regret the question as I can feel Harper tense up near me. The silence goes on for so long I almost think Harper isn’t going to answer.

“I don’t know. She didn’t listen to music from what I can remember. She just sat in bed all day and cried.”

“About what?”

“Everything, I guess.” Harper sighs loudly. “She was deeply unhappy. I guess I would be too if I ended up married to someone like my dad.”

“Same.”

“Your mom was kind of normal before she married my dad wasn’t she? I mean, she wasn’t a drunk, at least.”

“She didn’t drink at all.”

My mom acted like one of those moms on TV before she married Harper’s dad.

“He ruins everyone and everything. What chance do I have to not be a stain on humanity with his DNA?” Harper comes to lay down beside me, rolling on her side to look at me.

“DNA isn’t everything.”

“No, but the nature versus nurture debate is null and void because no matter how people become who they are, I end up being screwed up,” Harper points out. “I have the DNA of a suicide victim and a sociopathic abuser for the nature side and conversely, for the nurture side, I was raised in a loveless household and abused in every way imaginable as a kid. Not exactly a recipe to grow into a well-adjusted adult who benefits society in any way.”

“Well if it makes you feel any better I have the DNA of a deadbeat dad and an alcoholic mother and I was raised just like you, so we’re both probably going to end up maladjusted and crazy. So at least you won’t be the only stain on humanity.” I smile up at Harper as she flicks my nose.

The next day, while on my way to lunch, Ethan grabs my shoulders and leads me away from the cafeteria.

“Uhhh...” I eloquently say before Ethan loudly shushes me.

“You don’t want to go to lunch today, trust me,” Ethan says, nodding his head emphatically.

“You know I bring my lunch, right? So if the food isn’t good, that’s okay…”

“Ian please, this is me you’re talking to. Do you think I’d steer you away from the cafeteria because the food wasn’t good? Blasphemy. All food is good.”

“Ok,” I say as I let Ethan steer me into the dark music room to a set of empty chairs in the back. 

We sit in the dark for a minute in silence.

“Yeah, I probably should have turned the light on when we walked in.” Ethan says before getting up and flicking on the switch.

He grins at me as he walks back to his seat.

“So why are we eating in the music room and not the cafeteria? And are we even allowed to eat in here?”

“Michael has a girlfriend. And I think we’re allowed in here, I don’t know actually but really, what could they do? Punish us for eating?”

“What does Michael having a girlfriend have to do with us trespassing into the music room to eat alone like weirdos?

“Do you want to be in the same room as him and Jacob when Jacob finds out?” Ethan asks, stuffing some chips into his mouth.

“Maybe…” I say out loud, imagining Jacob throwing food in Michael’s face.

“Some people just want to watch the world burn,” Ethan says, shaking his head.

“Who is the girl, anyway?” I ask as I open my yogurt container.

“No one important,” Ethan says, waving his arm away from his face as if swatting Michael’s girlfriend away.

“I think she’d disagree with you,” I say dryly.

“It’s Denise Nichols. But it doesn’t matter because she’s just a rebound. Plus, Michael is gay, anyway.”

“I think the fact that he slept with my sister and is now dating a girl kind of makes your last statement questionable.”

Ethan cocks his head sideways as if he’s thinking and then nods his head.

“Okay yeah that’s a valid point there. But my point of her being a rebound is also valid.”

“I’m not disagreeing,” I say looking down and dipping my apple slice in my yogurt.

“Speaking of girlfriends…”

I look at Ethan and raise my eyebrow.

“I think Harper needs about 15 years of running wild before she’s ready to be anyone’s girlfriend.”

Ethan bites into a giant cookie and looks contemplative as he nods.

“I get that. I can wait.”

“Maybe you should focus some of your attention on another girl, there are a lot of nice girls at this school. Beverly Pendanski bakes really good cookies…you like cookies. Sounds like a good match to me.” I gesture towards Ethan’s cookie as I speak.

“You sound like my mom right now. Minus trying to sell me on Bev and her cookies. My mom doesn’t know her like that,” Ethan states, rolling his eyes.

“See! You already have a pet name for her.”

“Bev is not a pet name, Ian, that’s literally me being lazy and not wanting to say her full name.”

“Okay what about Amanda Tyler? She has nice hair.”

“So does Harper,” Ethan points out.

“Yeah but Harper doesn’t want to date you. Or anyone. It’s not personal.”

“What about if I played a moving 1980’s era love ballad for her at the benefit? Picture me on the stage gesturing at her, the lights are all focused on her and BAM she falls in love.”

Ethan pretends to strum a guitar as he details his plans.

“That’s a terrible idea. Don’t do that.” I shake my head and laugh.

“So no power ballads?” Ethan asks, sounding disappointed.

“I mean we can definitely do power ballads but I wouldn’t direct them at Harper.”

“Fair enough,” Ethan says, nodding his head.

There a pause of silence as Ethan finishes his cookie.

“So. What is the benefit like?” Ethan asks, breaking the silence as soon as he’s done chewing and swallowing.

“Awkward and depressing.”

“Because of the suicide thing?”

“That’s part of it but mostly it’s because my mom gets drunk and tries to be an attention whore and Harper gets drunk and inadvertently draws attention to herself by acting like an ass. Meanwhile, my stepdad is stone cold sober and subtly telling all the drunk people that they need plastic surgery and by the end of the night, someone ends up crying or falling in the pool.”

“Oh, this is going to be awesome,” Ethan says, pumping his fist in the air. “Free drinks!”

“Yeah. That’s the part to focus on,” I say, nodding my head.


End file.
